Ledger
by The Honorable Arik Novak
Summary: If the Black Widow's ledger is dripping, then Loki's is drowning. When Loki fell into the void, he met another there: a magic man. The eternity he spends drifting with the dog-man changes him forever, and when he comes to Midgard under the blue gem's control, he has something more than world domination on his mind. Mild torture; follows Avengers closely and tDH loosely
1. Prologue

Warning: canon character death

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Void**

His illusion hung off the end of the every-colored road, pitifully pleading, "Brother!"

Loki was never above trickery to get the upper hand, and he used his abilities now, stabbing Thor in the side and multiplying himself around Thor to confuse him. The man had never been his brother. He cackled ruthlessly, knowing that the cacophony coming from all sides would befuddle and distract him.

It seemed not to be, though, as Thor broke through his enchantments and threw him away with a great force. Loki was slammed onto the changing colors, his back convulsing in pain. He watched with apprehension as Thor approached him, and—the indignity of it!—left infernal Mjolnir sitting on his chest. He struggled to sit up, to roll over, to do anything, but he found himself as powerless and weak as he had always been.

"Look at you," Loki tried to taunt him. He was straining his neck to see above that accursed hammer. "The mighty Thor! With all your strength, and what good does it do you now, huh!" Thor could do nothing to stop the Bifrost! Loki strained under the weight of that thrice-damned hammer, wishing that he could lift it without his many groans. He had both hands pulling on either side of it, but to no avail. It was crushing his chest, his sternum. He could feel its mass pressing down on his lungs, constricting his breathing.

Even so, with the last of his strength, he cried, "Do you hear me brother? There is nothing you can do!" He hated how rough his usually silky voice sounded, how he had to shout above the noise of the Bifrost destroying the so hated Jotunheim.

Then suddenly, he could breathe again as the metal flew away from him and to Thor's waiting hand. He was so relieved by the lack of pressure, that he did not question the hammer's flight until he felt the bridge shudder. He sat up slowly, and saw that idiot Thor smashing the ground beneath him.

"Wha-What are you doing?" he asked, out of breath.

"You're going to destroy the bridge!" he warned. His mind raced; if the bridge fell away, they would both be lost to the void. No doubt, their safety was far from Thor's mind. What would convince him to stop? "You'll never see her again!" Thor might have hesitated the slightest bit, but he continued the demolition of the shimmering path.

Loki's eyes could not leave the form of his brother. How desperate he was to save those monstrous Jotuns! What worth were they to Thor?

Thor would kill the both of them, break the connection between Asgard and Midgard, alter the path of destiny by destroying it before Ragnarok—all for those ice beasts? Loki, though winded, ran as fast as he could to prevent the death of the bridge.

"Forgive me Jane," Thor said and, raising the hammer, brought it down for another almighty swing. Loki lunged at him; his spear was close, so close.

A bright light overtook them, and a gargantuan blast blew both him and Thor back. Their trajectory was a miracle; Loki held the spear, and its end was caught precariously in Thor's hand. He glanced more than once, amazed that Thor had lay hold of Gungnir so perfectly. At the top was his dearest father, his only father as far as he was concerned. Odin knelt there at the edge of the broken color, holding onto Thor's foot. Loki's eyes did not stray far from Thor's struggling form. He took the few necessary moments to realize that Thor was weak, and Odin as well. Neither was pulling away from the imminent void.

How the man had awoken at the perfect time, Loki could not know. Perhaps Thor's plight had roused him from sleep, for the man looked far from well-rested. "Father!" he shouted, though his voice was hoarse from shouting and panic. "I could have done it! For you! For all of us." He looked into his father's good eye, searching for approval, for pride, for anything.

Weary, Odin did not hesitate to scold him. "No, Loki." And that was it. It looked like he was going to say something else, but the Allfather's voice was still.

What was in that indiscernible eye? It seemed so small now, so weak and sad. Disappointed? Odin was disappointed in him? Loki could feel his face falling. Although he always tried to keep his emotions to himself, he could not help but let his dismay play upon his face. A sad calm settled upon him at hearing those bare words. He stared up at his father for a moment longer, but already his resolve was set.

It was his hopelessness that finally loosened the moisture that had been gathering in both his eyes.

Thor's eyes widened. "Loki, no." When did Thor learn to read him so well? How could he see Loki's intentions so clearly? He spoke the same words as his non-Father, but they held something different. No matter. He had failed. Odin would have nothing to do with him, and Thor...

No.

He let go.

He did not fall, so much as drift. He let none of his anguish show. Despite everything, he was still a Prince of Asgard and the rightful king of the Jotuns, and he would go down looking like one. If Thor really wanted to, he could have used Mjolnir to traverse the space, but even as Loki thought of this test, he knew it would not happen. Was that shock painted on his non-brother's face? And Odin, how passively he let his younger child be eaten by the abyss.

Loki would regret none of it. At that moment, he just wanted everything to be over. All of his careful planning, his schemes, all of them came to naught in the face of the Allfather's disappointment. As the darkness took him, Loki could hope for nothing more than an end to his struggles. Relief. Calm.

Instead, he had emptiness and the maddening void.

* * *

How he wished he had the resolve to kill himself. Meeting his sweet child Hela would be thousands better than his aimless drifting.

He did not know how long he fell, for sometimes it felt like a herd of airy horses was rushing past him, and other times it felt like the faint summer breezes he experienced an age ago upon his balcony at As-

Anyway. He did not know long he fell before he encountered someone.

Loki could have done the calculations to see the probability of such a thing: that he would encounter matter at all in the void, that the matter would be living, that it would have freedom of motion, that it would be sentient. And yet, there was someone else.

"So mate, how'd you get stuck here?" asked the man, for he sounded like a man. He radiated nothing godlike, and he spoke just like those mortals on Midgard. There was little light in the void; the only light generated was that Loki made himself so that he would not go crazy in the complete darkness.

Loki ignored him. Although he was surprised to see another being in the abyss, he still had not recovered from his non-father's and non-brother's callous neglect. At least his company had the sense to stay silent when Loki did not respond.

He did not know long it took, whether it had been a mere moment or the equivalence of several centuries, but eventually he found himself considering the man's question. Relenting, Loki sighed. "Family issues," he said with mild humor. "And you?" Language had never been a problem for his people, even in ages past.

The other man did not hesitate and laughed heartily, as if it had truly been a mere second. "Oh hey, you speak English!" The man twisted in the void, and adjusted himself so it looked like he was lying down even as he was falling. "So family issues? Me too! My cousin actually. Listen, I've been drifting for a while, and I think it's high time I died. Care to help a fellow out?"

To think, Loki had been longing for the same thing. "Can you suggest a means?" he humored the strange human. He wondered which of the two of them had drifted longer. He did not think there was even a way to count.

The man laughed. "If I had my wand, I'm sure we could work something out." Loki wondered what kind of wand the man had. Was it something like the sleek metal that sent out tiny metal projectiles he had seen upon Midgard? He had no doubt that such a wand would work, for surely, this man could not be thinking of a magical wand.

At Loki's pensive look, the man said, "Wow, are you a muggle? Didn't think a muggle could find his way into this hellhole."

"A muggle, you say?"

"Non-magical person." This man seemed far too happy to encounter a supposed muggle. Loki had no idea that there was a race of men like this one. Surely, it was not one recognized by the Aesir. He was not clothed like the Vanir, and his size seemed like that of a man, not a giant or dwarf.

Loki considered this man. Perhaps he was simply mad. "Prove it," he dared him.

The man's smile grew into a smirk and in a few seconds, a huge black dog had taken his place. He had transformed, his mouth lengthening, his skin growing fur, and his size almost doubling.

"Impressive," Loki conceded. Then he was a shape-shifter of some sort. Perhaps it was a race of magical dog creatures? Loki knew that the mortals he faced had no such magic.

The canine transformed back into his human form. "Yeah, but I can't do anything else without my wand."

The man's language was the same as that of those on Midgard, but no one had spoken quite like this man. His vowels were longer, and his entire way of speaking sounded more Aesir. "How interesting."

He whispered a few sounds and made a subtle sweeping motion with his hand. The man stared at him for a few seconds before he realized that a pair of snakes was winding up his legs.

"Whoa!" He tried to shake them off in vain, and he bent down to pull away the reptiles. As soon as his fingers touched the first scale, both disappeared. He snapped his head up to Loki and grinned. "Wicked."

"Indeed."

* * *

Okay, so I do write for my own enjoyment, but I enjoy it far more if I think others are enjoying it! So please, please, let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!


	2. The Magic-Man

**Warning:** mild depiction of torture

* * *

**Chapter 2: The Magic-Man**

The human was pleasant and pleasantly tame when Loki asked for it, which truly wasn't often. He found that conversing with the man as an equal was most enjoyable. He said nothing of Asgard, as the wound still felt too newly opened, but he did regale the man with various stories. He enjoyed conjuring things, the little he could, for the man's entertainment. He seemed especially fond of seeing a mouse-illusion conjured and then smashed to illusory bone and guts.

It turned out the wizard, as he called himself, was just a mortal with magical powers. "Yeah, don't tell the Ministry I told you—" they had their own government?"—but we have little pockets of magical people all over the Earth. A ton of them. I was from the UK."

"And what is this, You-Kay?" Loki asked, his curiosity piqued. This man was very knowledgeable, and Loki found himself wanting to walk upon Midgard again if he could. There was so much he had not noticed in his short visit, from tiny hand-held computers that possessed the answers to all of life's questions, to weapons of mass chaos that could turn an entire city into an uninhabitable desert. It was all fascinating.

"It stands for United Kingdom. Wales, Scotland, and England. Oh, and the Northern part of Ireland."

Perhaps this was the origin of their language? "So the entirety of Midgard adopted the language of England?"

The man seemed to consider this for a long moment. "Kind of. We went around conquering other places for a while, spreading English around. There are plenty of other languages though; Mandarin is becoming pretty popular. Now we're just a tiny country. Still plenty important, though."

"Oh, I'm sure," Loki agreed for the man's sake. "So this United Kingdom, you say there is a magical populace residing there?"

"Yep. Only, not sure for how much longer. When I fell, there was a crazy megalomaniac going around killing people, muggles and wizards alike."

That was a shame. Well, Loki never expected to get out of the void or go to Midgard, so what did he care that someone was going around killing magical people?

"Did you have any family you liked?" Loki asked out of nowhere. In their drifting, he had previously heard stories of how his family supported this megalomaniac, as the magic-man liked to call him.

The man barked a laugh and swam over to put an arm around Loki's shoulder. It was uncomfortable, but if the man needed the semblance of support to talk about his deplorable family, Loki would not begrudge it. He was curious, after all.

"My mum hated me. White sheep of the Black family, you know." No, Loki did not know. "The whole family was dark. My brother, two of my crazy cousins, my parents...they were all for blood purity, blood supremacy. Both my parents loved my brother, way more than they cared about me, and they convinced him of all their blood purity bullshit. I went to Hogwarts—oh, that's our magical school—with people who were born from muggles, and one of them was the smartest woman I had ever met!" The arm that wasn't draped around Loki's shoulders was waving emphatically at all he said, especially at the part about the woman.

"You are all mortals, and yet you make war on each other?" It made less sense than the Aesir fighting the Vanir. At least they were two different peoples. According to this man, the battles were within the same country, within the same population of sorcerers!

"Yeah, pretty stupid," the man agreed.

"Well, I hope that when you get back to Earth," he said, calling it the way the man did, "you will have the opportunity to smite that evil man." They both knew there was no chance of returning home, but it was a sentiment the man often shared: the desire to go back and protect his loved ones.

The man smiled. "I hope so too. So where are you from?"

* * *

"Yes, and to this day, he still bristles at being called a princess!" Loki recalled fondly. It was easier to speak of Asgard when the words were mocking Thor or the court.

The magic mortal laughed with him. "All that for a mallet?"

Loki nodded mock-solemnly. He had been retelling the story of how he aided Thor in recovering the hammer from a wicked Jotun. It was an amusing tale, and he told it now because of its humorous nature.

They exchanged stories of pranks and colorful escapades, outdoing each other with each tale. Loki told him of how he wriggled out of a bet that had his head on the line, and the magic man regaled him with a tale of shaping the metal of all the goblets in their grand hall to resemble a certain part of male human anatomy. Loki gave him an abridged version of tricking his own mother into punishing Thor for Loki's crimes, and finally the dog-man put a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, you won't be able to top this one."

Loki raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to try.

"When I went to Hogwarts—you remember I told you about Hogwarts?—I had a gang of friends. We called ourselves the Marauders, the four best pranksters in all of Hogwarts history. One of 'em was a guy named Remus, and he was a flippin' werewolf."

"Excuse me?" Loki had not heard of the term.

"He's usually a human, but every month on the full moon, he turns into a terrible raging wolf monster." At Loki's nod of understanding, the man continued. "So we learned how to turn ourselves into animals so he wouldn't be as rage-y. Well, there was this kid who wouldn't stop bothering us. I talked about him before, Snape. I actually tricked him into following us, and he got to meet Remus' wolf form face-to-face!"

Loki frowned. If he remembered correctly, humans were much more fragile than Jotun or Aesir. A raging wolf-man sounded like a creature that could seriously damage someone. At least most of Loki's mischief was harmless. "Was he in any danger?"

The magic man seemed somewhat guilty for a second. "Yeah...but he deserved it. Snivelling all the time, learning the dark arts, and trying to steal away my friend's girl." This was not the first time that the man mentioned Snape, but it was the first time he mentioned the girl.

"You ought to be more cautious," Loki warned him. "You may think it a harmless prank, but often times, things go awry in unexpected ways." It had often been beaten into him, from the dwarves' harsh treatment to his own non-father's punishments. Never, though, had one of Loki's plans gone as terrible as his last one.

Loki was lost in thought for a good long while before he turned to his silent companion. "You were something of a bully, weren't you?"

The dog-man looked down at the abyss below them. "Y'know, my godson asked me something along the same lines before I fell. I should keep my trap shut. You said your brother and his friends ganged up on you?"

Loki took a moment to craft a diplomatic response. "I once thought they were my friends as well," Loki said, feeling the texture of those words on his tongue. It was hard for him to admit such a thing. "They likely thought their comments were taken in jest. All the same, I would often wish I had their physical talents in the stead of my magical ones."

"Look, I'm sorry, man. But magic beats muscle any day!"

Loki didn't know why the man was sorry, but nodded anyway. He could not quite agree with the dog-man's sentiment. His spells and tricks were often a matter of shame, a talent to be belittled in the shadow of bravery and physical strength. He shook those thoughts away and turned back to the magic-man.

Loki liked to imagine that if they ever escaped the void, he could take the magic-man with him on a chaos spree through Midgard. He certainly seemed the type to enjoy such a past-time.

* * *

The magic-man's eyes stared unseeingly at him, a dull stare that reminded Loki of his desperate deed. Loki had killed him.

He was heaving and breathing heavily, but he had done it. He had ended the life of that man, the man with such good humor and the spirit of a trickster...He could console himself by thinking that at least that the man was asking for it. Had asked for it almost as soon as they had met. It didn't make Loki feel any better. It was strange that he could feel so much compassion for a mortal.

_But it was necessary!_ he told himself. Loki was no stranger to such necessary actions; after all, he orchestrated the Jotun attack on Odin in order to rid Asgard of that race forever. This was no different, and if others would castigate him for those deeds, they would do so for this.

At the beginning of the whole ordeal, Loki could tell there was nothing there. The man was spent, and for good reason. They had drifted in the void for what seemed like an eternity. For all the conversation and silence they had, it _must_ have been a few centuries. And yet neither of them seemed to age. Loki thought that the abyss was not so bad as he had such amusing company—the man was half-mad, it seemed, from an extended encounter with some happiness-sucking creatures and the time he had spent alone in the void. It had all come to an abrupt stop when they were waylaid by the disgusting beasts, these Chitauri.

They tried Loki first, but to no avail.

Then they tried him.

As much as the Chitauri tried, they could produce no more magic from the strange man who seemed single-mindedly focused on one, "Harry Potter." Loki attempted to tell them that he could do nothing without his supposed wand; he insulted them and raged and threw spitting comments—"Do you have the slightest capacity for comprehending the truth shoved before your very eyes?!"—but they were convinced that if they pushed the man just a little more, if they pulled his joints far out enough, if they drugged him and poisoned him, he would unlock some kind of inner magic.

The man eventually broke; Loki had a suspicion that he was already broken when he first fell into the void. By the time the Chitauri were ready to really interrogate him he was unable to speak, his throat raw with screaming and his eyes begging for a reprieve. For all of Loki's own pain, he could only pay attention to his friend's.

The Chitauri questioned him endlessly about a magical community and even about Loki. The god resented how much he had told the man, because now it only fueled the Chitauri's cruelty.

And yet, when they asked him, "Would you serve our master?" The man vehemently said "no," over and over again. His mind was probably resisting the Chitauri as well as the memory of that evil egomaniac wizard, for sometimes he would mutter something about Eaters of Death or something like it. Loki both commended his strength and cursed his foolishness. How long could a mortal resist such torture?

The Chitauri finally found a different way to go about it. They turned back to Loki and concentrated their efforts on him. Loki could see the indecision in the magic-man's face. The man was relieved that he was no longer in pain, but he probably could not bear to see his companion in the same pain.

"Convince the human," the Other ordered, as they surrounded Loki with leering eyes.

Though released, the man did nothing but sit there, looking stupidly at Loki. The pain was only beginning for the god, as he was beaten, burned, blinded, and suffered all kinds of atrocities. They moved onto shocks that felt like lightning, that _burned_ through his veins and choked him. It was not the first time he wished for death, for that weakness of mortals.

Loki was accustomed to losing track of time, but he knew that it had been quite a while before, between his trembling limbs and his hoarse screams, he heard another voice.

"STOP!"

Loki could not prevent the tremors in his abused muscles, but he would have given anything to tell the man not to give in. As it was, he could barely keep his lungs going.

"I would. I would serve you if you stopped hurting him." There was relief in the man's eyes, as if he thought this was the end of it. As if the Other just wanted his subservience. Loki knew better, but could not form the words to warn him when his entire body was seemingly paralyzed.

A spear encasing a blue gem was pressed to the man's heart, and an inky blackness filled his eyes. The darkness dissipated to reveal oddly glowing blue irises. He could tell that the mortal was trying to resist the pull of the gem, but slowly, he stood up on shaking legs and made his way to Loki who was still bound. He tried not to take it personally—though the blue had now faded to a dull glow, the man was still undeniably controlled by those hateful creatures.

"How much power do you need to move between worlds?" they hissed at him. Ah, so it was his turn to be interrogated. He was not surprised by the Other's betrayal.

It took him a while before he could work his mouth into uttering words. When he at last gathered the strength, he spat, "More than...you pathetic creatures could ever muster—" It was foolhardy, yet satisfying.

"Insolence!" the Other screeched. His companion did not hesitate in breaking Loki's fingers. He was proud to say that he did not scream.

"How much power do you need to move yourself to other realms?"

Loki knew he needed to be thinking strategically, but all of his plans and lies fell away from his tongue once they cut it out. It regrew. Over and over again.

"Not much!" he eventually said, after years or centuries or minutes of torture. He couldn't tell. "I just need...all of my magic restored." His once-friend approached him with new instruments that would make him scream, and Loki panicked. "No! No, I do, I swear it! I just need to recover my magic."

There were no moments of clarity for the dog-man when the blue was in control. Sometimes, the Chitauri would lift the spell from him, only so that he could look at Loki with apologies on his lips. But every time, the same blue overtook his eyes and he would go back to doing the Chitauri's bidding. In such a state, it seemed the dog-man had no sense of self; he had no memories, no skills, not even the ability to answer direct questions about his own life. He was simply an automaton guided by the Other's whims.

The gem was used on Loki as well, though to lesser effect. It seemed that consenting to its control made it harder to break. Resisting its power was painful, but not nearly as painful as it was seeing his once-companion flinch at his approach, for their roles were now reversed. The man's eyes were clear, and did not hold the blue glow. For now, he had his mind. Or what was left of it.

"Do the Chitauri need to be worried about this Harry Potter?" the Other asked.

"No!" The answer was too quick, too eager. Loki lamented the man's lack of foresight and lack of finesse for lying. He fought the power of the gem as much as he could, wearing himself out until he was relieved and _eager_ to burn the man's skin per the Other's command. The sharp shrieks reminded him that he needed to fight it harder.

"Why do the Chitauri need to be worried about Harry Potter?" Loki questioned, against his will. Or not. It was strange, how one part of him did not want to see the man in pain, and how another part relished in questioning him. As much as Loki wanted to say that he would never enjoy interrogating the man, it would be a lie. There was a part of him that enjoyed interpreting the little lies on a person's face and getting answers. At last, he could not resist the gem anymore. There was comfort and pleasure that pooled within him whenever he did as his master commanded, so he dropped the acid onto the magic man's skin.

"They- they don't. Harry's just a kid..."

Loki remembered the man speaking of the boy. He was child, really. A reckless, foolish child, and also the man's godson. Through their drifting, the man's every other word was about Harry. Though Loki knew much, he held his tongue. Much to his discomfort.

"What power does he possess? What is his weakness?" asked the Other

The child should have been nothing to them. Something in the man's eyes stirred, and Loki looked down into those deep pools. He was giving up. The man then closed his naturally blue eyes and choked out, "Harry is the chosen one."

At that moment, Loki battled the painful sway of the blue and pulled at all of his magical reserves to steal the life away from him and to stop the man's heart. It was a gamble; he wasn't sure it had worked until the blue faded from his dull eyes. It was the only thing he could do. He had died quickly, and Loki could almost convince himself that the dead look was more appealing than the look of rapt torture and shame when he betrayed his godson.

The Chitauri were not pleased.

* * *

Then, finally... "He is ready to lead," _He_ said as the staff was placed into Loki's awaiting hands.

He was still pale and sweating when he transported himself to Midgard with the staff gripped firmly in hand. He had not known sleep for years, but it was a small problem when the Other was demanding something else of him.

Oh, mortals here to impede him? He looked down at the foreign staff, and it spoke to him. He wondered at it for the slightest moment before reaching out and blasting away his obstacles. Yes, the Other would be so proud of him.

"I am burdened with glorious purpose," he told those who stood in his way.

To be honest, his mind was still a bit fuzzy, but he had little problem acting like himself. He converted others to His service, all the while making quips and smart remarks, because, as much as he wanted to serve the Other, he still enjoyed taunting his enemies.

He gifted the dark human with wisdom as he took control of the sharp-eyed man. "Freedom is life's great lie. Once you know that," he paused to convert the scientist who spoke of Thor, "you will know peace." Loki knew his words well. He knew them because he lived them.

* * *

So...I know that many were eager to see Loki and Sirius on Earth, doing a bunch of pranks and having many antics, but this is not that story. Sorry! I don't know if people want responses to their reviews; some people like getting review responses, and some people don't. Let me know, and I'll remember it! Thank you so much for reading, and many thanks to those of who review!


	3. Chats with Clint

some confusing perspective switching

* * *

**Chapter 3: Chats with Clint **

He had many moments of clarity, so many that he began wondering if the gem held any sway on him at all. He proceeded with the plans for the subjugation of Midgard, just because to miscarry so would be to invite the Other to inspect every little thing he was doing. And he had other plans in the works. In his spare time (and honestly not-so-spare time), he searched for the boy so dear to his torture companion and concentrated all of his magic into concealing his searches. To his surprise, the boy was now a man, and was well hidden by some other kind of magic. Loki would have little opportunity to find him, but find him he would.

Loki communicated with the Other through what the mortals called 'astral projection.' He sat cross-legged in a comfortable, empty part of the underground tunnels, and meditated. Soon enough, he could see himself walking upon the gray rocks and speaking with the Other.

He was...not happy with his progress. They exchanged a few stinging words, and Loki happily asserted, "Until I open the doors, until your army is mine to command, you are but _words_." Saying these daring things aloud, and to his tormentor, made him more courageous.

The terrible creature was speaking again. Threatening him. "If you fail," _no intention of failing, but I fail all the time. I always lose. I lost to you._ He didn't realize that the Other was still hissing at him. "He will make you long for something as sweet as pain."

The phantom pain was not so phantom, it seemed. A pounding headache sunk into him, and he remembered again that the Other had a measure of control over him. He had other plans, but he had to be more careful to keep them hidden.

Agent Barton was a surprisingly pleasant minion, and offered him a mortal drug as soon as he noticed that Loki was in pain. He thought this little cove had been empty. He took the little thing anyway, a pill they called it, but did not swallow it. It was enough to know that the man, no matter how artificial his loyalty, was looking out for him.

In exchange, Loki opted for a different way to gain intel. The Chitauri relied on torture, but Loki did not have to resort to such base things. He asked the mind-bound man several questions, conversing with him as he would an old friend.

"Ah, so you wish to make this woman yours?" They didn't always commune about Clint's intended, as not too long ago they were discussing the archer's time in a circus and wasn't _that _curious, but the conversation always seemed to steer toward her.

A rapid blush sped to his cheeks. "I-Maybe. She only hangs around with me because I saved her. She thinks she owes me a debt."

Loki frowned. "You will get nowhere if you fail to speak properly with her."

"I've tried!" Clint said, obviously frustrated now. "She only thinks of the mission at hand."

Selvig snorted. "Remind you of anyone?" The man was constantly telling Barton to loosen up.

Agent Barton glared at the scientist, prompting Selvig to retreat into his tent to fiddle with the Tesseract. Clint looked back at Loki. "I don't know if I could fight her. As much as I want you to succeed, I think I might...like her too much." Barton cared nothing for the Other. It seemed his loyalty was entirely to Loki.

"Ah, so I suppose you liked Fury too much as well? As well as that other agent?" Loki reminded him of his failure to kill Fury and the one he now knew as Agent Hill. It wasn't the first time he had needled Clint. In fact, it was fast becoming something of a joke for Loki. Barton didn't find it as funny. He stalked off again.

The Tesseract touched everyone differently. Indeed, it gave Selvig truth and knowledge. It gave Clint their next target, and as for Loki...well, he had a very good reason for going to Europe now.

* * *

The distraction would be Stuttgart, and he was happy to provide it. For both Agent Barton, who seemed incredibly unhappy doing nothing in the underground fortress, and that detestable creature. The Other was leaving him his mind more often, as Loki started to exhibit signs of true desire for world domination. It was a perilous act, for sometimes, when he was in utter darkness and could be completely honest with himself, he actually believed that Midgard would benefit with him as sole ruler.

It was good though; it meant that his acting was so convincing that it was starting to fool himself. Clint's presence and conversation kept him level-headed though. Every time the man professed loyalty unto him, Loki remembered that he himself could be forced to do the same for the Other—if that beast ever suspected Loki of straying. And Barton was very entertaining.

Test the mettle of Fury's group? Why, yes, Loki would love to do that. To see what he was up against. Despite everything, he did so love a challenge. Moreover, he rather had something to look up in Germany.

He allowed Clint some time to get acclimated to the city and to ready his plans. Meanwhile, he was slinking around a strange magical little town. The Tesseract had told him so much; it had given him knowledge that he sought, and directed him to this country to find a being, a mortal, of great magical power. It could only be the man's godson, right? He had spoken so well of the boy's power.

Everything was peaceful and quiet, but Loki was not so stupid as to let down his guard. He knew nothing of the man's temperament, or even if this was the man he sought.

Using every trick he knew, he cast his senses out for anything unusual. Ah, there it was. Such malevolence, he thought. He followed at a distance, watching as the figure walked into a thatched house. These were not modern houses, Loki knew. There was no chrome or steel, but only thatch. It was as if this village were impeccably preserved from a time centuries ago.

He slipped into the house to see an old bearded man suspended upside down, his face fast becoming red from the rush of blood to his head. "I have it not, I have it no more! It was, many years ago, stolen from me!" He had an accent of some sort.

There was a lanky man who must have been doing the suspending. He was tall and thin, bald and ugly. "Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Gregorovitch. He knows...He always knows." Neither of these were Harry Potter. Then, the man—whom Loki just realized _had no nose_—simply looked into the man's eyes. The pair of them froze, but Loki could not ascertain why. A minute later, consciousness came back to the both of them.

"Who was the thief, Gregorovitch?" the bald one snarled, changing his tactics.

Thief? There had been no vocal communication. Why did this Lord Voldemort suddenly think that the man was telling the truth?

"I do not know, I never knew, a young man-no-please-PLEASE!" The old man's terror reminded Loki too well of the fright in his once-friend's face. There were many screams, but Loki could see no instrument of torture. How could such power exist in the mortal realm, be at the fingertips of mere humans? Finally, when it seemed that the man was reduced to a blubbering mess, a bright green light overtook him.

The noseless one stepped away from the now corpse and disappeared with a pop. Well. It seemed Loki wasn't the only one who could teleport.

He put the troubling occurrence to the back of his mind as he moved himself back to his headquarters. He had other problems now—the logistics of the whole Stuttgart plan—and could not afford to dwell on this new problem.

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth and turned back to the Tesseract. Or perhaps he could.

First, he had to find a reliable way to consistently find this elusive young man by means of the Tesseract, and then he would have to send the cube on its way. This was the last chance he would get. There was a strange discomfort in his chest, but he figured it was merely worry. Gods didn't have heart problems like mortals did. He ignored the uneasiness, and thought on his other plans.

There was such great power in that Lord Voldemort man. He hoped it was the same insane wizard of whom the dog-man spoke, because two evil men with such power was too terrible to imagine.

* * *

"You okay, sir?" asked Agent Barton, coming upon him as he gazed wholeheartedly into the Tesseract. "What are you looking for?" The introvert had been staring at the blue thing for hours without moving, and only now did Barton muster up the resolve to interrupt him.

"Answers," Loki simply said, completely closing down Barton's inquiry. It seemed that Loki was not in the talking mood. Not surprising, but a little hurtful. He was used to chilling and sharing stories with the quiet man.

Barton frowned. After a long moment, the archer cleared his throat. "Sir, If you would allow me to speak..."

Loki waved for him to continue but had yet to face him. "Go ahead."

"I wish to convert Agent Romanoff to our side," he blurted out. He knew it was a dangerous thing, but he also knew, in his heart of hearts, that she would be proud of him if she heard the whole story. She knew that certain things had to be done, and she would praise him for sticking to his guns in a difficult situation.

Loki finally pulled his attention from the Tesseract and focused on Clint. "How do you suppose to do that?" he asked in his clipped almost-British accent. It was different from Thor's, more elegant and noble. Clint would have asked where he lived to have cultivated such an accent, but from Loki's stories, it seemed this was his first trip to Earth since humans started speaking English.

"If I could just speak with her, I could convince her that what we're doing is right. Protecting the Earth is our utmost priority as SHIELD agents anway." It was true. Although Loki was using extreme methods, he was ultimately doing good. Clint figured that he could use extreme measures as well. He would probably have to knock her out and take her back to base before he could convince her that what they're doing was right and that Loki was a pretty cool boss. And if it came to blows...if he brought her to base and she wouldn't see his side, then Clint wondered if he'd have to dispose of her. It was a chilling thought, and Clint hoped it would never come to that.

Loki started to shake his head. "You may if you wish, but do not kill her in your zeal."

It was like the man could read his mind. Clint nodded his assent, figuring that Loki was never really such a bad guy. He was about to leave Loki to his Tesseract searches when Loki's smooth voice stopped him in his tracks. "Moreover...did SHIELD have any intelligence on a magical community?"

Magical community? Clint scratched his head as he thought of all the various divisions and branches within SHIELD. Finally, he remembered the old beat-up door that almost everyone avoided. Not for fear, but just...because. "We had a department of Thaumaturgy, if that's what you're asking. I never worked with anyone there. It was all very hush-hush."

"It seemed the same as the arrangement with the magic people in UK," Loki muttered to himself.

_As he was considering this, the Tesseract stole Loki's attention. Ah, there it was! A second great power, hidden, and moving quickly for a mortal around the wilderness of England. Perhaps that was Harry Potter. This time, he took the opportunity to really immerse himself in the vision the Tesseract was giving him._

_A young man, trekking through the wilderness with two companions. Their faces were not as clear as Loki would have hoped, but he did get a whiff of their magical presences. None of them were particularly extraordinary, and he would almost doubt the Tesseract's accuracy. Surely Harry Potter would be radiating with power, right? Ah, but the power was latent, hidden._

_Ah well. Loki tried to apply a tracing magic, but it seemed they were too far away. No problem. He would simply keep an eye out._

"Did you see anything?" Agent Barton asked once Loki came back to himself. It was weird, seeing the play of emotions on the stoic man's face as he gazed into the Tesseract. Clint himself didn't see anything extraordinary, just his boss staring into the blue light.

"Yes. Nothing to do with this mission, however, and so none of your concern." Loki whipped around and stalked toward the back of his lair.

Clint hesitated before following him out. "But I'm here to help you." Clint only ever wanted to help Loki, but the man was so stubborn! Couldn't he see that he had his undying loyalty? Couldn't he see that, no matter the obstacle, Clint would see their plans to save the Earth to the end?

"Clint," Loki said, using his first name for the first time, "I have been searching for a young man of special importance to me. If, for any reason you go back to SHIELD—"

"I wouldn't!" Clint denied immediately. How dare Loki doubt him! Clint punctuated his next words by putting his hands on the man's shoulders. "I will follow you to victory—"

Loki glared at him. "Where I go, you cannot follow. The situation may alter itself such that you must go back to them. If you do, take the time to check your resources on one Harry Potter. Ensure that he is safe. He is in UK, and not part of your jurisdiction. If what you have told me is correct, then SHIELD will have intelligence on him anyway. You will want to look among the Thaumaturges."

Clint looked at him, confused. "What is his importance?" This was the first time hearing about such a thing.

"To me? Nothing." Loki said stiffly, contradicting his earlier words. Although there was no movement in Loki's body, Clint could see his muscles tensing and preparing. For what, Clint had no idea.

Loki continued. "He has nothing to do with the invasion, nor with me, but I know, as I have been looking into magic users upon Midgard, that there is danger to the world brewing in UK. He will be important, and it is best that he be protected." Aw, Loki called it 'UK.' He was still unfamiliar with country naming conventions. Clint considered his other words; protect this Harry Potter? Then, no matter what, no matter what evils befell him or obstacles in his way, Clint would make sure that Potter was safe—even if the most terrible came to pass, and he was brought back into SHIELD. As horrifying as that fate seemed, at least he would still be able to help Loki.

All traces of Loki's discomfort vanished, and then he looked reinvigorated. Loki cleared his throat and added, "I mean to conquer this world, not borrow it! Not to have it for a year before it falls apart due to some megalomaniac. Agent Barton," he looked into the man's eyes, "Clint. You must remember this, even when they take you back into their fold. Keep the matter _quiet_, and keep him safe."

"I will," Clint promised.

* * *

After Clint left, and after he was left alone with his thoughts, Loki sunk down to the floor. He thought it must look silly with him sitting on the dirty ground of the sewer, a conqueror too tired to find a proper chair.

What kind of conqueror was he, anyway? What kind of conqueror had no control over his plans? Could he call off the invasion altogether? As if he could. His thoughts ran away with him, though. What if he cancelled the invasion? He could stop the Tesseract from opening that portal, and he could go off to do what he really wanted, which was to see the dog-man's godson safe—

"Aaurgh!"

He clutched his chest, his head; he bent double, trying to fight the pain that lanced through him. He breathed erratically and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on something other than the pain. Panic was starting to seep into him—they had a hold on him, they still had him in their clutches! Was he in the void again? Was he held down and at their mercies?

Many moments passed before his breaths evened out. Even then, his mind was blank for a good long while before he had the sense to worry about his surroundings. Eyes darting to the left and the right, seeking out hidden crevices and crannies, Loki finally let out a good steadying breath. He was relieved that no one had stumbled upon him as he suffered; explaining the pain and the panic would be much too difficult.

Right. So even if he did stop the Tesseract—what a stupid plan that was!—_He_ would find a way to Midgard anyway. Once _He_ did, Loki would have to be on _His_ good side. Midgard would be spared; Midgard would be his to rule and his to protect when _He_ came.

_But _He_ is Death's lover, and nothing, no promises and no oaths will stop _Him_ from trying to appease _His_ beloved._

Agony lanced through him again, but he bit his tongue before any sound could get out. It lasted longer this time, the pain.

Traitorous thoughts would get him nowhere. Perhaps there was something to this Avengers Initiative. From what Clint said, they would need all the help they could get. Whether they came together or a team or fell apart, Loki would benefit either way.

* * *

Whew. Thirteen-hour shift yesterday dealing with some nice people and some not-so-nice people. Readers, please put yourself among the nice people and leave a review! What part(s) did you like? Or not like? What can I do to improve? Did the perspectives confuse you? What do you think will happen? Many thanks to all who are following and who have favorited this story!


	4. Found

**Chapter 4: Found**

Well, he'd had his fun in Stuttgart. Selvig now had his Iridium, everyone would recover, and it gave the Chitauri more confidence that all he wanted was a realm to rule. Doing what was expected of him gave him a sweet calm feeling. Perhaps he was made to rule after all. Never had he considered himself ruling material. In his entire life, he had thought himself taking on an advisory role, not the face of an empire or kingdom. He had never wanted it. However, seeing the mortals kneeling at his feet, seeing them shrink away in terror—it gave him a sickly sweet feeling that he embraced.

He had been momentarily shocked by that old, graying man who stood up to him. He would be lying if he said that he didn't intend to kill him when he pointed that spear. At that moment, when a frail geezer dared challenge him, Loki had to end him. Something hateful swirled within him, and he knew that if one man refused to kneel, then the rest would follow. Loki the Conqueror could not have any dissidents!

But then more mortals came and started a fight with him. The one bedecked in gaudy red, white, and blue compared him to some other Midgardian dictator from an age long past. Oh, he could have converted the soldier to his side. It would have been easy. Something pulled at him to use the gem on this man, but Loki hesitated. Why would he take this man? He neither wanted nor needed the soldier to be another falsely-loyal minion. Instead, he held the butt of his staff against the soldier's head and commanded, "Kneel!"

As he thought, the super-soldier fought back. This was going nowhere. There was a metal contraption floating above their heads, with large mortal guns pointed at him. It was slow, though, and Loki was able to ignore the threats coming from it. That is, until some strange music started blasting from it. Out of nowhere, a blur of red and gold slammed into him. Ah, Clint said this would be Iron man. And the Gaudy one was necessarily Captain America. Silly names, he thought.

"Make you move, Reindeer Games," said the robotic man, with all manner of weapons trained on him. From his sitting position on the ground, Loki knew he could not fight back physically. There were, though, all sorts of strategies he could employ now: teleportation was the most obvious, but his trick with the duplicates was his favorites. As he schemed to make his escape, a suppressed voice in his head reminded him that he _wanted_ to be apprehended.

Listening, for once, to that small voice, Loki remembered that he wanted these Avengers to assemble against him. That was his plan. He would assemble them, and they would stop the invasion, and_ he needed to stop thinking_! By now, he was accustomed to the pain that accompanied traitorous thoughts. Betraying none of his aches, he looked straight at the metal man's faceplate and raised his hands in surrender, simultaneously dismissing his armor and helmet. He would make himself vulnerable to them.

And that was how he found himself sitting belted into the flying contraption.

"Said anything?" A voice was coming from somewhere in the plane, inquiring about Loki. It was the dark man, their leader. Fury. But he was nowhere to be found.

"Not a word," the woman-pilot answered. Loki immediately recognized her. Agent Barton never really stopped thinking about this woman, and he often spoke of her. It seemed she was communicating long distance with their leader. A useful bit of human technology. What he would give to speak with Selvig and Barton now...

There was a map of lights that showed coordinates, and from it, Loki could see they were moving hastily across Europe in a northwesterly direction. The would be passing over a great island soon. Something tickled his senses, but he could not be sure of it. Something was magically cloaked, and it was ahead of them by a few miles.

The two mortals in silly dress continued to bicker between themselves until a great light shook their metal aircraft. Lightning. Loki tried not to look apprehensive, but he surveyed the sky intently just in case. He was not accustomed to being so far from the ground, so near the flashes of light.

"What's the matter? Scared of a little lightning?" asked the one wearing his country's colors. Apparently Loki had not succeeded in hiding his anxiety.

Loki frowned and spoke with measured dryness. "I'm not overly fond of what follows."

He honestly didn't expect Thor to find him in the jet after the lightning. It was completely unexpected, and although it was not according to plan, Loki found himself oddly pleased that Thor was there and looking for him.

Except Thor could not care less for him.

When his back slammed onto the cliff from the great fall, he found himself groaning. It hurt, and it seemed like only the day before that Thor had slammed him down upon the Bifrost. He snickered, "I missed you too."

* * *

More than once, the image of his dear younger brother flashed before his mind's eye. Oh, Loki. He thought back to his brother's face, his brother's eyes. There were moments, he thought, when Loki would search his face; when those green eyes would roam across, looking for any trace of a lie. He did that often, when they were younger, when Loki thought that everyone lied as much as he was wont to.

Loki had moaned as he was slammed into the Earth. At that moment, Thor had no sympathy; his brother had done a terrible thing. And to taunt him, his brother was laughing! Jesting! "I missed you too," he said, with a chuckle in his resentful voice.

Conversation had been least of his worries, as he grabbed his brother and told him blatantly, "We thought you dead." He would have embraced his brother if not for the grave circumstances.

It was with no emotion that Loki asked if they mourned. Thor was never one to lie, was never one to fabricate false stories. Although his words were wrong, the sentiment behind it was not. "We all did," he said. All who mattered to Loki mourned. Their mother, their father, Loki's few friends. It was a short list, but surely Loki would be comforted, knowing that their parents held no grudge and loved him all the same. "Our father—"

Loki held up a finger to stop him. "Your father," he interrupted him, no malice or scorn in his voice whatsoever. He stated it as factually as he stated that three and seven were ten. Loki broke their contact. "He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?"

Thor gaped at him. Did his own brother care nothing of family? Was blood all that mattered to him? So what if he was a Jotun, it changed nothing! He watched as Loki took the long way down, walking slowly with one hand stabilizing his back. Surely, he had not pained his brother so greatly? They had suffered greater falls in their boyhood without wincing. "We were raised together," he said calmly, hoping to stop his brother in his tracks. Loki kept walking.

"We played together," Thor followed him, with his arms out in disbelief at his brother's indifference. "We fought together!" His brother then paused, and Thor took the opportunity to continue: "Do you remember none of that?"

Loki turned abruptly. "I remember a shadow," he said coolly. He rested his weight on his back leg and considered his brother with an unemotional eye. "Living in shade of your greatness." He leaned forward. His eyes were open, his brow tilted upward. Thor felt a heavy sadness at his brother's perceived pain.

"I remember you tossing me into the abyss," he hissed. There was something there in his brother's eyes, something beyond the terror of the abyss. He did not pause, but Thor noticed how Loki's voice hitched, how his words rose in cadence and tempo. "I who was and should be king!"

Though Thor might have been inclined to confront the abyss—did Loki believe his own lies? He was the one to let go!—he was distracted by his false claims and his false reasoning. "So you took the world I love in recompense for your imagined slights."

Loki drew himself up and regarded him with a furrowed brow. It seemed he was going to argue, to say something, but Thor took a step forward. "No! The Earth is under my protection, Loki."

Cackling interrupted him. "And you're doing a marvelous job with that," Loki mocked him, spreading his arms. "The humans slaughter each other in droves while you idle fret." His voice became kinder: "I mean to rule them!" Then he whispered, "And why should I not?"

His brother's thoughts were not those of the clever trickster he knew so well. Ruling? Loki had never an eye for ruling. He loved political machinations, staying behind the scenes and being the puppeteer. He had no desire to be put up as a target or a god.

"You think yourself above them." Was that it? Was this just Loki's ego? And he told Loki his thoughts. That the throne, truly any throne, would not suit him.

Loki walked past him and up toward the cliff onto which he had so recently been slammed. He started talking of worlds Thor had never seen. He spoke as if he had spent lifetimes exploring some other realm. And then he spoke of the Tesseract and its true power. What true power? Who could have told him so?

"Who controls a would-be king?" he asked, grasping for anything.

"I am a king!" Loki shouted. Loki so very rarely resorted to base shouting.

Thor grabbed his arms, wanting to shake him so vigorously that this senses would return. "Not here!" He looked his brother in the eye, directly in the eye and continued, "You give up the Tesseract, you give up this poisonous dream!" And for all that he tried, he still ended up shaking his dear brother more than he intended to.

Knowing that brute force never worked well with Loki, he put a hand on the crook of his brother's neck and pleaded with him. "Come home."

This, this is what bothered him. Loki's eyes were searching him, looking so desperate as they darted around. He smiled and laughed one short, bitter laugh. The grin melted away in an instant, and he shook his head. "I don't have it."

* * *

Well, a few hiccups, but things were on their way again. He would have to wait for Thor and the man of metal to finish their ridiculous fight, but he spent the time well. He estimated five minutes for their fight, and decided to spend four of those minutes casting his gaze around.

There was a lonely farm off in the distance, and a field there with flickering firelight. Except...there was something shielding his view of the campsite. Magic! It was the magic he was sensing upon the aircraft. He was no fool. Now that he knew there were others like the dog-man and Harry and that Lord Voldemort, he could not approach them as if they were friendly.

He looked off to the sounds of trees tearing and men grunting. What macho silliness; Loki was well reminded of Thor and his warmongering friends destroying Agardian hillsides. Well, he had some time, if he remembered those bouts correctly. He teleported near the campsite and slunk around, looking to see who was there. He undid the magic there, thread by thread, hoping his maneuverings would alert no one.

"It's not stealing, is it? Not if I left some money under the chicken coop?" It was a young woman's voice, and it was nervous with guilt. Loki laughed to himself. Pathetic.

He walked closer, making sure to enchant himself invisible and silent. A man's voice replied to her around what must have been a mouthful of food. Did mortals have no manners?

"I rather like having a full stomach," a third mortal said, joining the other two. He was on the short side of average, but his eyes were green and glittering. He seemed so familiar. Loki tried not to let himself get too excited; after all, there were many magic users, and he could feel nothing particularly remarkable about these ones. But there was something...

"It sure makes the hunt easier," one of them commented. What were they possibly hunting at night in the middle of a field? This outing was nothing like the hunts on Asgard.

"Oh please, Harry, let's not talk about hunting horcruxes right now. I'd rather relax and talk about the good old days," the woman begged with a laugh. How conveniently she answered his question. Horcruxes, whatever they were. It was no animal familiar to him.

The one called Harry leaned back. "Yeah, the good old days. Hard to imagine them, honestly. Remind me?"

The other man was taller, lankier, redheaded. Taking another swallow of whatever he was eating, he said, "Remember that time Sirius cursed Snape's robes magenta?" Snape? That was a familiar name.

The three of them chuckled. Harry positively glowed. "Oh yeah, and Snape made him stay in his dog form for a week. That was not pretty." Dog form? Perhaps...could it be that this was the Harry he had been searching for? A warmth spread through him at the thought.

The woman laughed, but it was not the delicate laugh Loki was accustomed to hear from the women at Asgard. "Not as pretty as Snape was!"

Off in the distance, he heard a loud clang and some bangs. The three whipped their heads around at the sound, but went back to their food when nothing else came of it. Ah, Thor's fight must have been coming to an end. It seemed five minutes was much too generous. He looked back at the three of them and left a charm on the one named Harry. If this young man were not his once-friend's godson, then he would dismiss the spell. But if he were...then Loki would not pass up his good luck. He so rarely had good luck.

The boy did not so much as twitch when he laid the spell on him, as he was too busy remembering the so-called, 'good old days.' Seeing their camaraderie hurt. He remembered when he, Thor, and the Warriors Three would jest like that in Lady Sif's company. Those days were long dead, but Loki could still remember the smell of bonfire and mead.

He slipped into the shadows, but not before catching the boy's eye and revealing a bit of himself. He winked at the boy. There was a look of panic and shock on the young man's face before Loki disappeared back to the cliff to await his imprisonment.

* * *

He hadn't truly intended to introduce his brother to Midgard's defenders, but it would not interfere with his plans. Probably.

He laughed at the mortals' arrogance. They thought mere cuffs could hold him! He tried to stifle his smile, but their folly was much too humorous for him to keep up his solemn appearance the entire time.

Fury tried to threaten him. At first, he was apprehensive about the cage that would plummet 30,000 feet. For a second, he wondered if Thor had given them the details of Loki's supposed death of falling into the void, but that thought was quickly dismissed as he uncovered the fact that it was built to house one of their own: the green rage monster. He exchanged little quips with Fury. It was entertaining to say the least, and it made him happy to think that others were listening in on their conversation. He let the slightest taunts pass his lips to give them something to meditate on.

He gave them some obvious facts: mortals could not be trusted with the Tesseract; they were more selfish than Loki could ever hope to be. Left in such hands, they would just kill each other as unforgivably as they did with the atom bomb.

SHIELD, no doubt, was already trying to harness its power to create such weapons. Loki did not hesitate in planting those seeds of doubt in the eavesdroppers' ears.

He stood in his prison for all of five minutes before he sat down and meditated. Astral projection was not something he did often as it was dangerous to his person with overuse; he did so to communicate with the Chitauri, but this, this was for a different purpose.

* * *

Thank you all so much for reading, and I look forward to hearing what you think!


	5. Drowning

**Warnings:** Loki's foul mouth.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Drowning**

He didn't know how long now he had been on the aircraft, but he had little to do and endeavored not to think of food or comfort or social contact by instead visiting Harry. It was very lucky that he had been able to anchor the tracing charm to the boy, because otherwise, he would have absolutely nothing to do on the ship. He told himself it wasn't quite _stalking_. He was...chaperoning. Even if the boy didn't know it.

One time, he had seen the boy in a dreary-looking house, complaining about some kind of outrage printed on a long sheaf of gray paper. There was a strange elf-goblin hybrid creature added to his company, one who ordered the boy about as if the elf were his mother. "Shoes off, if you please, Master Harry, and hands washed before dinner," he croaked.

It seemed, according to the paper, that an unsavory character had recently been named Headmaster of their school, Hogwarts. Loki remembered the man's stories of Hogwarts, her magic and charm. The three did not seem to welcome the change. Why they were hunting for these horcruxes as opposed to going to school (as he thought people their age ought to have been), Loki did not know.

Strange, all of this.

Another time, he had seen a man in a very pink, very frilly room, rifling through a woman's things and looking in her vases and baskets. There was a very large desk that made the room look like some sort of study. Sitting on the desk was a shiny rectangle that read, 'Dolores Umbridge, Head of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission.'

The man was searching for something. Loki was sure the man was Harry, as the spell he cast would not be sensitive to anyone _but_ Harry. Moreover, he was starting to get used to Harry's magic; it was unique among the spell-casters he had seen. He supposed Harry was searching for this _horcrux—_certainly not an animal as he once thought—and was in disguise; it was a good one.

As Loki scanned the room as well, he noted that the man was distracted by a book featuring a moving picture of an old codger on the cover. Loki supposed if he ever found such a book himself, he would be distracted. But really, why was the boy's guard so low? Even as a projection, Loki could tell that someone was approaching.

Although he was not physical, he could still perform some limited magic. As the boy was flipping through the magical book, Loki cast a small redirection spell so that the man would think he saw something curious. Eyes wide, the man threw a long look over his shoulder as he walked in. That done, Loki immediately turned back, intent on spelling the boy invisible except—he was already invisible. These magicks were incredible.

Loki longed to stay that time, to see if Harry would magic his way out somehow, but his will was running out. As it was, the mortals had not fed him a morsel. He did not need to eat as often as mortals, but he still needed some kind of sustenance. He did not blame them, but it certainly didn't endear them to him.

This time, Loki projected himself and found Harry walking through the snow with the girl. The redhead was nowhere in sight. There was an air of sadness about the way they walked through the field littered with rocks. Upon closer inspection, he saw that they were not rocks, but smooth stones with words engraved upon them.

"Harry, they're here...right here." The two of them stopped, and Loki gazed down at them. There were two large stones and two names scratched upon their surfaces. _James Potter_ and_ Lily Potter_. The boy's parents, then.

Harry bent to read an inscription at the bottom. "'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death'..." The boy looked to his friend in horror. Loki could not help but fear that the inscription was too accurate.

"Isn't that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?" he asked his friend, a panic creeping into his voice.

The girl sighed. "It doesn't mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry." Ah, the Death Eaters were Lord Voldemort's minions. That would account for Harry's worry then.

"It means," the woman continued, "you know...living beyond death. Living after death."

Loki laughed to himself. Such pathetic words. For mortals, there was no living after death. For Loki and his own kind, they had Valhalla and Niflheim. For Harry? _Nothing_, his mind whispered. Perhaps he could pull some strings and have the boy meet Hela in her realm once he died. The sound of sniffles pulled his attention back to them. The boy was openly weeping now, and Loki would not begrudge him that.

* * *

Fury finally approached Thor. "You think you can make Loki tell us where the Tesseract is?" It had been too long, and the master liar and trickster was still sitting complacent in his cell.

Thor thought back to that cliff, when he held his younger brother up by his collar. He said he knew not where. He said it gone. _But Loki is a god of lies and trickery._ He looked to Fury, and noted that the man looked oddly grim. So then he did not want Thor merely to ask, but to...use means beyond ordinary.

"I do not know. Loki's mind is far afield; it's not just power he craves, it's vengeance upon me." He paused, considering his words before saying them to Fury. "There's no pain that would prise his need from him."

Fury seemed to consider his words, but then responded, "A lot of guys think that, until the pain stops." Thor wondered if the man had done this before. Torture was not...uncommon in Asgard, but he thought it was considered taboo in this culture. Apparently, Fury was not above that brand of beastliness.

Still, he was uncomfortable with the thought of torturing his younger brother for information. "What are you asking me to do?" he queried, making sure they were both thinking along the same lines. For Thor desperately wanted to be mistaken.

"I'm asking, what are you prepared to do?"

Thor was not prepared for _this_. "Loki is a prisoner." Not a victim, not a war criminal (yet). Thor still had some hope for his brother, and he was dismayed at Fury's nonchalance toward his brother's pain.

"Then why do I feel like he's the only person on this boat that wants to be here?"

Well, Thor could not answer that.

* * *

Loki was still there, watching them, when the woman, intelligent as she was, stopped. "There's someone there. Someone watching us, I can tell."

Were her powers so great? Loki was about to return to his body when she continued: "There, over by the bushes." Ah, so she did not sense _him_, but another. Loki went over to the place she indicated. Surely enough, an old mortal woman was slithering away. He nothing of it, instead choosing to follow them.

He watched over the pair for a time, noting the presence of a fabric of invisibility. It seemed this was what Harry used back in that pink room. He followed them to the ruins of an old house which seemed to affect Harry greatly.

_On this spot, on the night of 31 October,_

_Lily and James Potter lost their lives._

_Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard_

_ever to have survived the Killing Curse._

_This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left_

_in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters_

_and as a reminder of the violence_

_that tore apart their family._

So many questions Loki now had! This boy was the only survivor of what appeared to be an infamous Killing Curse. There was graffiti on the sign, but Harry only looked pleased at the encouragement. Personally, Loki took the woman's side of indignation. What a lovely sign, now defaced.

Something suddenly caught his attention. It was the same old woman who was hiding in the bushes. Harry and his companion were still talking when they finally noticed the woman as well. They were apprehensive at first, but warmed up to her fairly quickly. They hoped to gain something from this old woman, that much he could tell, though Loki did not know what such a decrepit creature could do to help them.

Harry and the young woman followed her into an old house. They must have had more information about her; why else would they trust a stranger? Perhaps she was a relay, or had information they needed. At any rate, the woman was now pointing at Harry, then herself, then up the stairs.

"Oh right," said Harry, "Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her."

The girl, whom he now knew as Hermione, responded, "All right, let's go."

When the strange corpse-like woman saw her move to go up, she shook her head vigorously and repeated the motions with new-found insistence, pointing only to herself, Harry, and the ceiling. Suspicion then solidified in Loki's mind, though the boy was still trying to reason through _why_ the old lady wished to see him alone.

"Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to me, and only to me?"

So they were looking for a sword as well, and they followed this Dumbledore man. Or perhaps 'horcrux' was another name for the sword? The young woman acquiesced only after a few more words, but Loki thought she was smarter than that. Could they not see that something was wrong? This woman smelled of death and evil, and Loki was not even physically there!

He floated before them up the stairs and focused on the hag's face. Beyond those wrinkles, beyond those empty, lifeless eyes was something, but Loki could not imagine what it was.

Suddenly, he heard slow hissing. "_Hankh sangkath angha_?" It was a foreign language, a strange one. It did not seem like any mortal tongue he had ever encountered, and it bothered him that he could not naturally understand it now. The All-Tongue covered every mortal language and those of other worlds. He should have been able to understand those sounds.

To his surprise, Harry replied readily. "_Sa nakh_." It was a deep, hissing guttural sound. Perhaps it was a secret language developed for his side, a language impervious to magic?

She hissed something else, but Loki could not hear it. He grew more anxious by the second. There was something strange, too, about Harry. There was a great power hiding about him, but it was not within the boy. Searching him, he found it was hanging around his neck. Such concentrated power! Maleficium, he thought, and more destructive power than he had ever thought to exist on Midgard. His tricks were nothing compared to the energy dripping from the locket around Harry's neck.

Loki would have kicked himself if he could; how did he not notice something pulsing with such malevolence? The thing was beating out of control, attracted for some reason to that bag of old bones. Speaking of which, the old woman directed Harry's attention to a pile of rubbish in the corner, as if it warranted his attention.

"Do not look, stupid boy!" he tried shouting; alas, his words were unheard. In the second it took for Harry to turn his attention away from the hag, a great snake sprung from the woman's body as if the old skin were just a blanket it had thrown off. Loki tried to slow it down, but his magic was weak in this form. The viper, whatever it was, got one good bite into Harry's arm before the boy could turn to defend himself properly.

More than ever, Loki hated that his magic was so limited when he was projecting himself. He tried subduing the snake in any manner he knew; he had it thrashing in pain, but the beast seemed to cause only more trouble with its flailing tail.

The girl, Hermione, rushed up the stairs and shot some spells off with her wand. There was nothing for it. Harry was in trouble, Hermione was nothing compared to the snake, and Loki could tell something terrible was about to happen.

With the last of his strength, he grabbed hold of the two mortals and teleported them away to the outskirts of the village. Harry was still thrashing, as if something had a hold on his mind. It must have been the venom. Loki felt so weak, so drained. He didn't know how much longer he could hold this projection. Removing the tracking magic, he redirected his energy to healing the bite and absorbing the poison. An old familiar pain blossomed in his chest as he removed the spell, but he had no idea why. He pushed that concern to the back of his head as he saw the two holes growing less inflamed, even as it remained the slightest bit purple and quite disgusting, weeping pus and blood.

Harry was still in the throes of some nightmare. Loki fretted; there was nothing he could do, and he was growing ever weaker. He forced himself back to the terrible house to see the manifestation of that Lord Voldemort. The man was solidifying there from black smog, and the snake greeted him with a hiss.

The man would be after Harry, but the boy and his companion would not be able to get far so quickly. And Loki could do nothing but place a weak holding spell on the man, Lord Voldemort, who was struggling against it. Too soon, he was out of magic, and already he felt himself pulled back to his body.

The connection was broken. He thought desperately, how could he know if they were safe? What would happen? He started pacing his cell, cursing the fact that he had gotten himself imprisoned in the first place. It seemed like a good plan in the beginning, because sure, he had all the time in the world to check on Harry, and_ sure_ he had planted the seeds of dissension within the Avengers, but what good was any of it when the magic-man's godson could be dead at this very moment?!

There was a presence in the room.

"There's not many who can sneak up on me." He tried for bored complacency, but had no way of knowing if it was effective. There was still some panic clawing at the edge of his mind, but he needed to be focused!

When Agent Romanoff attempted to sneak up on him—for she had not _quite_—he told her that he expected her presence. But only after. "After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm." _The Chitauri had enforced much the same, using the magic man as my soother. It often worked._ "And I would cooperate." In the end, these mortals, and not even Thor, could begin to replicate the pain he experienced on that distant moon.

No, she would be the one spilling her secrets, not him. He pushed his worries over Harry and the boy's immense recklessness to the back of his mind. He could do nothing, after all. At the moment, he needed to understand this woman and her motivations. He needed to...to distract himself from worrying, and he needed to remember that he had a plan. Right, the plan.

He tried to remember everything he was told of her and reconcile it with what he was seeing now. She loved Barton; she was practically professing her love when she was willing to trade the whole of humanity for this one man. Could it be that she would join Barton without the influence of the jewel? Loki highly doubted so. No matter how deluded Barton was, he would never be able to convert this woman to their side without mind-altering magic, not when she perceived him as working against his own will. Even if she loved Clint enough to doom the entirety of Midgard.

Needless to say, Clint loved her back, despite all their talk of 'debts.' Loki had heard the man say that much in addition to her many sins. Loki rattled them off with glee, "Drakov's daughter, Sao Paulo, the hospital fire?" watching her face crumble as he recounted her more dreadful acts. He felt no guilt; had Barton not said she was one of the strongest women he knew?

"Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?" Loki didn't pause to think of the mortal magic man, nor of Harry, though they both were lurking at the frayed edges of his mind.

"This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer...pathetic. You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers." He plowed on, trying not to think of the Chitauri or the Other or _Him_.

"You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you," _they'll rip you apart..._ "and they will never go away!"

He took a breath. Despite his efforts to stay composed, his rage and fury overtook him and pounded unrelentingly within him. He continued, hoping to make her feel pain, feel_ any_ degree of pain that he once felt. "I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you!" _As I had to kill him._ "Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear! And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I'll split his skull. This is my bargain, you mewling quim!"

He glowed in her pain. He enjoyed seeing her turn her back and fearfully whisper, "You're a monster."

Loki laughed. How right she was. "Oh no, you brought the monster."

And somehow, she extrapolated that his intention was to rouse the beast within Banner. It was no sweat off his back; it mattered not at all to him if the beast was truly released. It was likely that her worry would lead to the monster's escape anyway.

"Thank you for cooperating," she said on her way out.

Cooperating. Ha! He crumbled once she left the room, and tried, failing over and over again, to reach Harry.

* * *

Whew! Thanks all for reading, reviewing, favoriting, whatever you do to show your support. Your reviews make me ridiculously giddy.


	6. Victory

**Ch 6: Victory**

_"You lack conviction."_

He hoped the Other hadn't noticed or heard. It disturbed him that the man could read him so well. He had no qualms about killing mortals who stood in his way, he told himself. No qualms, not even one for who was so astute. It was a shame, he had to admit, that a man so clever had to suffer. Thor's shaken "No!" also warmed Loki's cold, dead heart.

"_It's in your nature,_" Coulson said as the life left his weak mortal body.

To fail? Was that all he did? He failed to destroy Jotunheim, he failed to make Odin proud, by all the gods, he failed to save the dog-man. What hope had he, if he failed the Chitauri as well?

Releasing the glass cage housing his non-brother, he had a reasonable hunch that Thor would survive the fall; after all, he was not reduced to the fragility of mortals as he had been when Loki sent the destroyer. At least, he hoped...he didn't know what he wanted. Certainly, it would make him very happy if Thor sustained a serious injury. An amputated leg perhaps? Those in Asgard so loved battlescars.

He waited as long as he could before they had to leave; the helicarrier was out three engines, and Loki would go down with it if he didn't leave. It hurt that he had lost Clint—no, _Agent Barton_ to SHIELD. He rather enjoyed the staunch man's company, and wondered if anything he had revealed would be shared with those mismatched heroes. Well, it wouldn't happen anytime soon; the Chitauri's invading force would be their first priority. It seemed those so-called Avengers were scattered for now, but he could not know if it would last.

Well, it was a good thing that he had told the man very little of his personal plans for Harry, then. He could not endure the pain if the young man became a target because of him.

He sighed.

So much to do, so little motivation. He sat in the jet, still unhappily stewing on the loss of Agent Barton. A pounding in his heart reminded him that he needed to care more about the duty given to him.

"Sir? We're on our way to the Tesseract," said one of the pilots. If Loki tried hard enough, he could imagine that the pilot was instead Clint.

That was ridiculous. He shook his head and ordered, "Then let us hurry. I know not how much time we have."

They alighted on Stark tower, the garish eyesore of the New York City skyline. Dr. Selvig was already there, making last-minute changes to the device that would open the portal. They had few words for each other. It seemed Selvig too missed Agent Barton, and was disappointed that he would defect. Loki was not surprised; he knew he never really had the archer's loyalty.

He had little time before the invasion was to begin. However, that was fine with him as he had few things to attend to. Selvig had the portal set up, and the Avengers were scattered. The Chitauri didn't need him anymore, he thought. So why was he still there, so impotently at rest?

He was dithering about the garish tower when someone interrupted his thoughts.

"Would you like a drink?" asked the Man of Iron.

Yes, he would very much like a drink, his mind responded. Common sense told him otherwise. "Stalling me won't change anything."

He ignored the man's monologue, and responded when necessary. He could feel the Chitauri. The portal. It sent a chill of fear and excitement down his spine. He was letting them through into the mortal realm, and then...he tried to think what would happen next, but there was pain bubbling up in his chest, and he shook his worries away.

"-and you've managed to piss off every single one of them."

Oh, the Iron Man had been listing off those on his team. "That was the plan," he affirmed. He couldn't remember now why he wanted it that way. The Other had not ordered it, and yet he had done such a thing. He couldn't remember what he had been planning.

"Not a great plan. When they come," Stark paused, "and they will, they'll come for you." For some reason, the words pleased him. The Avengers coalescing into a force with which to be reckoned was not in the Other's plan. Why did he want the stupid mortals to come for him again? Why did the thought of them swooping in to save the day both nauseate him and make him ridiculously pleased?

Loki pasted on a smile. "I have an army."

Stark looked equally self-assured. "We have a Hulk."

Shit. Not ideal. "I thought the beast had wandered off?" Loki said with feigned concern. Best not let Stark know that the idea of the massive green giant frightened him more than it should have.

"You're missing the point! There's no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top."

Oh, Loki knew. Loki knew very well, but Stark did not. If he did not win, then he would be sent back to Asgard for a slap on the wrist. He would scry Harry's location and keep an eye on the troublesome boy. Loki would be safe there. If he did win, then he would reign over Midgard as its sole ruler—Midgardians did so love their leaders. As ridiculous as that sounded. But no matter; Loki would win either way.

His mind went curiously blank, and yet he spoke as was expected of him. He needed to think, and this Iron Man was getting on his nerves! He let anger have a good grip on him, and threw the man out the window. Loki cared little for the lives of mortals. They were all lower than him!

Good. Quiet. It didn't last long, for a mass of metal followed the figure out the window and the Man of Iron floated back up, slamming him in the chest with some kind of energy.

But now the Chitauri were here. Loki stood there, both admiring the force and resenting it. The resentment did not last long, however, because in a few moments, he was joined by his dear non-brother, Thor.

"Loki, turn off the Tesseract, or I'll destroy it!"

There was no stopping the blue cube. The Other would be displeased if the Tesseract were disturbed. "You can't. There is no stopping it. There is only the war!"

"So be it."

He fought with Thor. He did what he had to. The Leviathan appeared.

"Look at this! Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule?"

Loki took this opportunity to do so, not quite shaking himself out of the angry stupor he had adopted. "It's too late. It's too late to stop it." It had been too late from the very beginning, when he first accepted the spear. Tightness lanced through his chest, but Loki ignored it, instead looking up into the bright blue eyes of his once-brother.

"No, we can. Together," Thor pleaded with ever-hopeful eyes.

He looked back at his non-brother. His idiotic, well-meaning brother. Thor could not understand the war taking place in Loki at that moment, the war Thor himself created. Moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes and threatened to fall.

Such weakness!

Loki controlled his arm. He remembered making the decision to stab Thor in the stomach, and he remembered the sick pleasure he garnered from it. He dug the steel into the man's gut and twisted. Mjolnir fell from his non-brother's weakened grip and Loki yanked the his hand back as if stung. What had he done? Anger swirled in Loki's heart-Thor made him do it! It was- it had been necessary!

He looked with horror at his deed, but then whispered, "sentiment..." to himself, letting a smile overtake his face-whether it was genuine or not, Loki could not himself be certain. Despite his efforts, he felt a small stinging track of moisture trail down his cheek. At least Thor couldn't see his weakness.

The lout was too busy shouting in rage. It was unfortunate that Thor needed only his great strength to overpower him. Loki rolled off the edge of the tower and barely grabbed hold of a passing speeder.

He flew around the city, watching the destruction wrought around him. So many different thoughts assaulted him, from joy at the chaos and dismay at the people's terror. He only wanted mischief, not death. Yet, here death was, all around him. Mortals and Chitauri alike, falling one by one. He consoled himself, remembering that mortal lives were short and meaningless; they would all be dead within the century anyway.

He zoomed after the Black Widow who, no doubt, had been the one to take Agent Barton back. Loki didn't know how they countered the gem's effects, but it must have taken much effort. Loki knew, from personal experience, how difficult it was to throw off its influence. As he shot blue light after blue light at the agent, he heard a whistling sound.

Loki instinctively caught an arrow just as it was approaching his face. He gave a lazy look to the arrow, and then directed his gaze far above him at his once-cohort, Barton. Oh, Barton.

Then it exploded.

He cursed his own lax mind as he fell; he should have known better! He knew that Barton used arrows like that, it was one of his trademarks. The man loved to brag about his archery skills, and then Loki had just conveniently forgotten that? He crash-landed onto the balcony of Stark Tower just in time to see a giant green creature lunge at him and send him flying through the window and into Stark's bar.

"Enough!" he screeched. Hadn't he been through enough? He picked himself up and made a stand. He was tired of being pushed around. "You are, all of you, beneath me! I am a god, you dull creature!" Or had been. Or was. Could Jotuns and monsters be gods? Nevertheless, he powered through his invective: "And I will not be bullied by a-"

Well, so much for that.

"Puny god," the green beast said on his way out. He wasn't far from the truth, but Loki was no god.

He whimpered a little, feeling every little hurt of his body. He lied there for a very, very long while before the magic stitched him up enough that he felt he could move something. He crawled out of the smashed tile, pulling himself into a sitting position. Clarity was starting to sneak into his mind as he sat up. It was as if...as if it were all a terrible nightmare. Did the humans win? Were the Chitauri defeated? When he felt hope flare within him, Loki was surprised by the lack of pain. It was the first time in a long time that he did not feel a familiar agony in his chest. _Was a thrashing by the beast all it took to shake off the gem?_ There was no gem-induced agony. Instead, he was sure he had broken ribs and punctured organs, but nothing could prevent him from feeling joy at the absence of that damned gem's influence.

There was a presence. Loki wondered what happened to him so that it was so easy to sneak up on him now.

And then he turned. All of them. Each one as Stark had described them. Stark himself, the idiot Thor looking at him sternly, the super soldier, the rage monster still in his green skin, the woman, and Clint. Who had an arrow notched on his bow, an explosive arrow aimed straight at his face.

He weighed his options, taking them all in with his wide eyes. He tried to push himself up because he hated being in a weak position. "If it's all the same to you," he paused, trying again to pull himself into a more comfortable position and more or less failing, "I'll have that drink now."

He probably should have used the last of his energy to talk to them, to warn them about the Other, about _Him_. But he was tired. And he really just wanted to sleep now.

* * *

It pained him, to have to shackle his own brother and clasp the muzzle on his face. Loki looked dazed as Thor did all of this.

None of it made sense. He and his brother had many adventures in their long lives. They were not like mortals, spending mere decades in each other's company. They had centuries to know and read the other, to spend conversing about little things, to while away against legendary feasts and battles. How could his little brother become...this?

"So I can't give him that drink then?" asked Stark. He was already by the bar, a bottle in each hand.

"I fear not," Thor answered, looking down at his brother. How frail he looked now, with no weapon and no access to magic. He looked gaunt as well, an appearance that never suited him. Perhaps he could feed his brother? After all, Thor never shied away from being his brother's keeper. "When must we report to Fury?"

The Black Widow pressed a finger to her ear. "Reporting in. We have him restrained, sir. Yes, sir. Copy that." She then turned to the rest of them. "Done."

"So..." said the unassuming voice of Friend Bruce, "shawarma?"

Thor could not have asked for a better opportunity. "My friends, let us partake of the victory meal! Lead us onward, Man of Iron!" He took Loki by the arm, jostling him less than he would have any other prisoner. His brother came along quite easily, though he stumbled enough times to make Thor concerned.

"Did Fury say we could take a break?" the Hawk asked Lady Natasha as they stuffed themselves into an elevator.

She shrugged. "Not in so many words, but we deserve one. "

"What will happen to my brother?" asked Thor. At his words, Loki started struggling and there were muffled but indignant shouts. Friend Steve was inquisitively looking at Loki, particularly at the metal covering his mouth.

Still focused on the gag, Steve replied, "Likely, he'll be assigned a lawyer and go to court for his crimes." Steve paused. "And if he's found guilty of mass murder, then it'll likely be life imprisonment or the death penalty."

Though Thor was grateful for Steve's candor, he did not like the presented options. He nodded grimly and faced his brother, looking for his reaction. He was pale, but he had always been pale. His eyes were blank and his brow uncreased. He looked bored and not in the slightest afraid for his life. Either he cared nothing for his survival (once, Thor might have ruled this out, but his brother's suicidal fall into the void proved this was a possibility), or he had a plan to escape. Neither was good.

They were ambling toward the street which was still torn up from the battle. Stark introduced them to a large metal vehicle and encouraged them to 'belt in.' At Steve's insistence, Thor belted himself and Loki into the seats even though there were no other vehicles on the roads. There were barely roads left.

Though it was cramped in the metal box, Thor turned to his left. Loki was leaning his head against the window with his eyes closed. "Brother—"

"I'rm no- your mrmr," he tiredly said behind the muzzle.

"What'd he say?" asked Stark, though he was driving and really shouldn't have been focusing on what was going on in the backseat.

Ignoring Stark, Thor said, "We are brothers by everything save blood." Loki looked at him and rolled his eyes, placing his head back against the window. "I do not desire your death. Mother and Father want you home."

There was an incredulous scoff.

"They do!"

Soon enough, they were at Stark's shawarma place. It was hidden behind scaffolding and sat beneath a sign that said, "Farmers Insurance," but there was a pillar with pictures of food on it and they all looked quite good.

"Is it even open?" asked Bruce as he approached the storefront. He opened the door and a little jingle tickled the air.

There was a woman hunched over with a broom and a man behind the counter who was writing things down on a notepad.

"Ah, you here for food? We are closed!" said the lightly-bearded man once he noticed all seven of them. He was wearing an apron and slacks.

"Are you stupid?" shrieked the woman behind him. "These are the men who just saved the city!" She swatted the man on the back of his head and turned to the Avengers. Sweetly, she told them, "Take your seats and order whatever you like. Today, it's on me."

She hobbled away and continued sweeping the debris into the back room.

The biggest table they approached only had six seats which were screwed into the ground. Thor guided Loki to a seat off to the corner and lightly pushed down. Although it was not his desire to exclude his brother, it would do no good to have him at table as he was.

The food came quickly, spurred by the woman's influence on the cook. They ate in complete yet companionable silence. Steve finished quickly and sat with his right elbow on the table and his hand supported his head. He looked mighty bored. They all looked quite tired.

Then, he heard the clicking, and then the rolling. His eyes focused on the source of the sound and saw that Loki was standing with his back barely touching Friend Bruce's. Thor had to laud Bruce for his control, for he looked greatly distressed at having the God of Chaos at his back.

There were a few more sounds of clicking, and then the sound of more rolling. Loki moved so that he was directly to Bruce's right and then kneeled down, facing away from them all. Whatever magic he was trying to work would fail due to the cuffs, Thor knew, but his brother's antics still made him nervous.

Then, he stepped away, cupping something between his hands. He looked furtively around and then found his way to Thor's side. He pointed at his mouth and then showed Thor what he had conjured. It was a little green ball, with a diameter about the length of his thumbtip.

Friend Stark guffawed. "Seriously?"

Loki glared at him and returned his attention to Thor. Looking plaintively, he point at his muzzle and then proffered the little hard ball.

"C'mon, Thor, he just wants a little piece of gum. If he's not gonna eat, at least let him have that," Steve said sympathetically.

"Gum?"

Bruce turned around and pointed at a clear little box on a stand. It was red-topped and was filled with many little colored balls, much like the one Loki now had in his hand. Ah, so Loki just wished to eat this Midgardian treat. It seemed harmless enough, and Loki had always liked sweet things. Feeling pity for his brother, his brother who just wanted one little thing, Thor undid the clasp. The others were watching and were likely prepared to pounce in case Loki did anything untoward.

Contrary to their worries, however, Loki merely popped the little green ball into his mouth and slowly started chewing. Thor went to put the mask back on but found himself flummoxed. "Are you not finished? Swallow quickly."

"Thor, it's gum. You're _supposed_ to chew it. And not swallow it," Lady Natasha told him. What strange Midgardian customs. Well, the muzzle was supposed to cover his entire jaw, and he could not reapply it until Loki was finished with his _gum_, as they called it.

"Mmmm," Loki said, apparently savoring the gum. "It is pure sweetness. You would like them, brother."

Thor beamed. It seemed giving Loki that piece of candy made him more pleasant. "I think I would!"

"He probably poisoned all the other gumballs," Friend Clint accused bitterly.

"I would do no such thing," Loki said, smacking the gum loudly and quite obnoxiously. "Though who is to say that I would not do something like it when there is no one here to watch me?" He continued chewing the gum. "How does one blow a bubble? Agent Barton, you once promised to teach me."

"I'm not teaching you jackshit," he spat.

Loki looked mildly over at the others. "I will enjoy my stay here on Midgard. When I escape, I shall gladly find more of these gumballs. We have nothing like it," he said, as if they were mere acquaintances and not villain and hero. He pulled out another little ball, this one red. "Here, Thor. I thought you might like to try one."

There was nothing that could contain Thor's joy as he took the gift. And it was his favorite color! He put it on his tongue and started chewing as Loki did. His smile quickly fell though, when he felt a fire in his mouth. "What sorcery is this? How did you put a flame in my mouth?" he asked, reaching for his water.

Loki was chuckling to himself. He blew a bubble with his gum and pulled it out of his mouth. He looked contemplatively at Thor's hair before walking over to the nearby trashcan and popping it in there. A glance at Lady Natasha showed that she was relieved for some reason.

"Maybe you should put that back on him," Steve said, looking at the grinning Loki. Although Thor least wanted to do that, he picked up the metal contraption.

"I look forward to all the wonderful things I can do while you are away, dear non-brother," Loki said as Thor started to fasten the muzzle on. Loki was always one for hiding his weakness behind loquacious bravado, but he now appeared bone-tired. His shoulders were slumped and everything about him seemed lank and weary despite his words.

"Okay, who agrees we should just send Clockwork Orange back to Asgard?"

There was a chorus of agreement and Loki's eyes shined.

* * *

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	7. The No 1 Undesirable

**Chapter 7: The No. 1 Undesirable**

He didn't know why he so terribly wanted to look into the matter. He remembered conversing pleasantly with Loki and he remembered the man asking him, very seriously, for a favor. Clint was disgusted with himself. Even after the cognitive recalibration, why was he still doing Loki's bidding?

Maybe it was the desperation he had sensed at the time. Maybe it was the loyalty he had felt so strongly—but that was not now! Clint was not loyal to the maniac, and he wouldn't do as asked of him!

He made a promise. And...it wasn't for Loki. Not really. It was a threat against the Earth, and so it was something SHIELD needed to look into anyway. Right? Clint grabbed at his hair. This was the same reasoning Loki presented him, and he hated how the god's words were still in his head, clouding his thoughts.

"Clint?" he heard from across the room. "Are you okay?" He hadn't even realized Natasha was there.

No! He was not okay! "Yeah, I'm fine," he said between clenched teeth. He was usually so relaxed, so in-control compared to other agents. Yet here he was, not able to tell the difference between his own thoughts and the commands of the crazed man who once controlled him.

But it wasn't control.

As much as everyone told him he wasn't at fault, he remembered the feeling of shooting those agents. He remembered thinking and reasoning and coming to the conclusion that those agents were better off dead if they challenged him. Clint thought that it would have been altogether better if it were true mind control. At least then he wouldn't doubt every other thought flitting through his head.

"Something on your mind?" Tasha asked him, settling herself down on the couch.

"...I need to look into some SHIELD files without being tracked." He could share this with Natasha. She was trustworthy.

Tasha pursed her lips for a second. "You'd be best off asking Tony, but I doubt he'd keep his mouth shut about it. What do you need it for?"

Now, to tell her the truth? "_Keep the matter quiet, and keep him safe,_" that low, refined voice whispered in his ear. Clint would have suspected the foul play of magic had he not certainly known that Loki was chained and muzzled worlds away.

Tasha was trustworthy. And screw Loki's commands!

"It was something Loki was looking into. Right before Stuttgart," Clint confessed. The matter had bothered him for some time now, and since the cleanup of the city was basically completed, he couldn't avoid it.

Natasha sat up in her seat. With sharp eyes, she turned to him and looked him straight in the eye. "Was there something else? Other plans? We still don't know much about the Chitauri."

Clint shook his head. "Nothing about them. It seemed completely disconnected from that. Actually, it was about...thaumaturgy." Clint lazily wafted a hand through the air, as if the concept were a vague mystical thing. Which, to him, it was. "For some reason, Loki said it would be important once he was ruling." He caught himself waving and guiltily pulled his hand down to instead grip the top of the couch; the whole hand-waving thing was one of Loki's quirks.

Her hand landed on his shoulder and guided him to sit on the couch rather than perch on it. She hesitantly put her hand in his to calm him. "So is it still important? He's not ruling. Maybe it was just once he got his fictional throne."

"Yeah, now that I remember. He thought it threatened the earth. Midgard, he constantly called it," Clint remembered fondly.

Natasha nodded. "I bet SHIELD is already on it if it's such a threat. Here, let's take a cursory look."

"Mr. Stark is on his way up," JARVIS announced as Tasha pulled out a laptop. She didn't quite roll her eyes, but it looked like something she was tempted to do.

Clint grunted. "What for?" As soon as he said that, the elevator doors dinged and Tony Stark stepped out.

"Did I hear we're going to break into SHIELD's files? Sounds like a blast!"

So much for keeping the matter secret.

"You weren't invited," Clint said unhappily. He should have been more insistent on security.

"But he is more versed in this stuff than we are," Tasha said, overriding his opinion. She didn't seem to have a problem with sharing this search now. "And he'd hear everything from JARVIS anyway." Natasha stood up and handed the laptop over to Tony, who declined it with a jerky hand motion, not graceful like Loki's was when he was being dismissive. Clint shook those memories aside and focused instead on watching Tony work. He started up one of his weird holographic computers with its screens hovering before their faces.

Tony cracked his knuckles. "So, what're we looking up?"

Clint was not pouting. He was frowning, he told himself. Gathering his thoughts, he said, "Department of Thaumaturgy. Specifically, Harry Potter."

"Huh," Tony said, sliding various pictures across the screen with little flicks of his fingers. "This is supposed to be somewhere in the US?" he asked, typing more nonsensical things. Little pop-ups prevented his access at every turn.

Clint tried to remember. "No, he said...what was it...UK!" Now he remembered. It struck him as oddly endearing when Loki consistently called the country, "UK" instead of "the UK." He tried to swallow down the emotions, but he didn't know how successful he was because there was still something aching in him. It seemed every other thing was reminding him of Loki, and it was driving him crazy.

"Oh, goody," Tony said, bending over the keyboard and typing furiously. Clint felt the slightest bit guilty as Tony hacked into STRIKE files. He supposed it was the agency's own fault for having an easily-cracked security system. After a few boring minutes of watching him bypass wall after wall, Tony arrived at a new page. "A-ha!" Many pictures flashed before them, most of them of a boy with glasses and dark hair. All of them seemed recent, published and uploaded within a few months. The screens were naturally blue, so Tony changed it to white light in order to see the colors more clearly.

"Huh. Black hair. Green eyes, nerdy glasses. Is this the guy you're looking for?"

Clint walked up to the screen, curious about the boy. It was a teenager, certainly. He knew that pictures could only capture so much, but he was sure that there was something deep and troubling about the boy. He_ looked_ much older than he looked, if that made sense. He reminded Clint of child soldiers and of the younger agents that SHIELD often reluctantly employed.

He read the words scattered around. Many files before this year were nonexistent or must have been deleted, and many current ones used the title, "Undesirable No. 1," below a black and white picture of him. The boy's firm jaw was set, and his dark eyes seemed to look right through them.

"Whoo! Fourteen thousand galleons on his head. Wish I was worth that much imaginary money. And here I thought the British used pounds."

"JARVIS?" Natasha asked, "What is that amount in American dollars?"

"104,869 dollars and 56 cents," JARVIS rattled off obediently. What kind of currency was galleons? It was obviously real if JARVIS could convert it.

"That's an awful lot for one kid," Clint observed. Why was he so important to Loki? It seemed this kid was a fugitive from the law, judging by the wanted sign and the things written about him.

He was ready to turn in for the night and stew on this new information when Tony exclaimed very loudly, "The fuck?"

Other pictures were loaded onto the screens, and Tony enlarged one of the wanted posters. "The Ministry of fucking Magic?" There were other reports on there, and Clint analyzed one that accused the boy of blowing up his aunt. Blowing up. This was pretty dangerous stuff.

Clint thought back to Loki's instructions. Protect him? This kid was a menace! There were files in here about consistently breaking statutes of magical secrecy, property damage, things Loki would have been proud to claim as his work. Nothing, however, that prompted such a huge bounty.

"Maybe he's Loki's son," Tasha observed. Clint choked. "No, seriously," Natasha continued. "Their jaws are similar. Not their chins. The nose, maybe. The eyes, definitely. This Potter kid doesn't have as big a forehead as Loki, but it might just be the hairstyle. Huh, that's an interesting scar."

Clint heard the shuffling of feet, but ignored the sound to concentrate on the things flashing before him. He thought Loki would have been more adamant about the kid's safety if this boy were his son. Though it would explain why this kid was wanted by his government and why there was such a huge bounty on his head.

It had...slipped his mind, until now, that Loki seemed certain that Clint would end up back at SHIELD. Why would Loki expect him to go back to SHIELD (he remembered fervently denying he would ever do so) when he expected also to rule the world? It made no sense.

"He said the boy wasn't important to him personally," Clint told them, "but he is a lying bastard," and amended.

"Well, he looks like a criminal anyway. I can't believe we didn't know about a whole society of magical people. Look at this." Natasha was reading an article from the people's newspaper, muttering some of the words aloud as she read.

"Apparently he's travelling with an illegal magical. Non-magical person, a muggle I guess, who steals the magic of magical people. Does this make any sense?" she asked him.

Clint read the article as well. It was supported by some kind of Department of Mysteries, but he had no way of knowing if the magical science behind the article was true. "How do you mean?" he asked, still skimming it.

Tasha licked her lips and sat on the couch to think more deeply about the study. "They claim that these people are born as muggles, and that they steal magic from Pure-bloods. So how do they have the power to steal magic? Are other Pure-bloods aiding them? Why not go after these pure-bloods then?"

"They are," Clint responded, reading another article. "Blood traitors, they're called. I'm actually really uncomfortable with all this speak of blood. Seems a little nazi-ish, don't you think?"

"Sounds very nazi-ish," said a stern voice at the end of the room. Steve walked over to the screens and looked closely at the pictures. "But we obviously don't have the full story."

Apparently Tony had disappeared at some point and had returned with the rest of the gang sans Thor, thankfully. He knew Thor was a nice guy, but Clint couldn't stand being near him, and to Clint's discomfort, Thor could tell. Clint didn't like the morose look in Thor;it didn't fit him. Although Loki had never openly spoken of his days in Asgard nor of Thor back in the sewers, Clint could always tell when those memories were weighing upon him. Clint had some apprehensions toward Thor that shouldn't be there, and Clint couldn't help but blame Loki's influence.

Well, eventually Bruce and Steve would tell Thor, and then everyone would know. Clint wasn't upset that Loki's order had been disobeyed, he told himself; he was more upset that he, as an agent, had been unable to keep this under wraps. Giving Tony a harsh look, he complained, "What part of secret don't you understand?"

"The part where I don't tell my superhero team what's up, Robin Hood," Tony shot back, glaring at Clint. "Kay guys, there's a new threat. Harry Potter, and Loki's interested in him for some reason. Also, Romanoff thinks he's Loki's kid."

Tasha rolled her eyes. "It's a theory."

* * *

"What's wrong, Harry?"

He wasn't sure.

"It's just that..." How do you explain to your best friend and fellow fugitive that a previously constant presence was no longer there? It wasn't just his imagination; he knew that someone had been watching over them. Harry had seen him. Pure luck couldn't explain all the things he'd gotten away with, from Umbridge's office to that time in Godric's hollow. The mysterious ghost man could.

"Don't panic, alright?" As soon as he said it, he knew they were the wrong words.

Hermione's eyes bulged. "Don't panic? Don't panic? Okay, fine. Tell me what's on your mind, and I'll try not to panic," she said with bite.

Harry took a deep breath. "Someone was following us. I even saw him. He had dark hair and light eyes, and he looked really tired most of the time. I think he was a ghost, except I could swear he could cast magic."

Hermione frowned.

"I think he apparated us out of Bagshot's house. I didn't do that, Hermione. I thought I heard a man warning me about danger, but I didn't listen. And afterwards, you said you thought I had side-along apparated you, when I didn't. I wasn't aware of anything happening while he was in my head. Maybe he cast the Patronus that led us to the sword."

Harry looked up at her through his bangs, uncertain of her reaction. He knew it was a stupid thing to keep secret, but he thought he had been going crazy.

"Ghosts can't do magic," she just said. "If you see him again, tell me. For all we know, he could be one of the headmaster's friends sent to help us. You never know."

Harry smiled at her and hoped that such was the case. "You never know."


	8. Developments

**Warning: **Mild spoilers for Thor: The Dark World Prelude

* * *

**Chapter 8: Developments**

As they approached the crowd of Asgardians before them, Thor asked him a question. Something along the lines of what he would say when faced with the court.

Well, the moment had come, and Loki had many conflicting thoughts fighting for superiority in his mind. _I was coerced!-Just execute me already.-Don't let them get me._ Thor removed the metal covering Loki's mouth, allowing him to lick his lips with relish. Looking upon the mass of hostile people gathered there, Loki smiled widely and settled on asking, "Did you miss me?"

The night came too quickly, and still, there was no sentence thrust upon him. He did not know why. The mortals were expendable, so he did not understand why there was such a fuss. He hated being suspended in this limbo. It was like falling all over again: not knowing to where he was hurtling, and not knowing when he would hit the ground.

Still cuffed, he could not return the hug when his mother finally approached him. "I knew you would return to us," she told him. Yes, she would know. Frigga was excellent at seeing what was there. Just before the attempt at Earth, he had thought he saw a projection of her. He shook the thought away as she put a soft hand on his thin cheek. Her touch lingered there for a moment before a sharp voice broke the moment.

"Enough," boomed Odin's great voice. "I would speak with the prisoner. Alone."

Ah, so he was a mere prisoner. This cleared up a few things. He was no longer son, no longer a prince of Asgard.

"Be strong," Frigga said finally. Loki graced her with a nod. She left with Odin's guards. Odin must have been truly secure in his power if he thought he could deal with Loki alone. The last time they spoke one-on-one, he fell into the Odinsleep.

Aiming for nonchalance, Loki said, "I really don't see what all the fuss is about."

He could see Odin's mouth harden, but Loki granted it no consideration. "I intended to rule earth with the same firm hand with which you rule all the nine realms," he said. He would not mention the Chitauri, would not mention his weakness and how he succumbed to their authority. Although he would have never approached an invasion of his own volition so precipitously, in the end, those actions and thoughts were undeniably his. The mortals, with their short lives and penchant for hero worship, would have benefited from his wise rule anyway. And most importantly, he would not be so weak as to blame another for his crimes.

"I intended to show humanity the same mercy you've granted your opponents." He paused and smiled. "And if given the chance, I might have even stolen a mortal infant and raised it as my own," he said with bite. He wanted to remind Odin that he started this. He started it by taking in a monster and raising it to believe that it had worth.

"Frigga clings to you like the mother of a drowned child. But she is too late to save you," Odin replied, his voice hard like dwarven steel. He was right, though. It was too late for anyone to save him. If Odin wanted him to admit his faults, he would. His quietness, his trickery, and his distrust had all been nourished within him since he was a boy and he was proud of them. However, Odin likely cared not that Loki could name his shortcomings. He probably wanted Loki to be sorry for _having_ them. If Odin wanted him to beg forgiveness, then he would be sorely disappointed.

Odin did not let Loki stew on his thoughts for long. As Loki was reaffirming his stance of non-reconciliation, his non-father's voice interrupted his thoughts: "The boy I knew is dead. What remains is a creature I do not recognize."

Ouch. Well, that hurt. Loki wanted to cut him off, to tell him that the boy he knew never existed. That even if he did exist, he was killed not by Loki's actions, but by the nature of the blue beast within him.

But Loki did not stop him. Odin was on a roll. "Frigga is why you still live," Odin lied—he _must_ be lying—, "but this was the last time you will ever see her. Spend the rest of your wicked days in the dungeon...Loki _Laufeyson_."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't—

So he was to be disowned, cast off to be a Laufeyson. No problem, he told himself. He had disavowed his relation to them anyhow.

That didn't stop the knot in his throat or the shock coursing its way through his trembling fingers. He clenched his fists to stop the movement. He would not be weak, not now that he only had himself.

Approaching a guard, Odin instructed him, "Bring Loki to the dungeons. The viper during the day, but a bed at night. Do not tax him overly."

* * *

He long wondered why his cage was so white. Or why it was so mortal-looking. He was in a glass box framed by stone, a tesseract of silicon and carbon. When he looked past the glass, he could see the interior of the larger room; dark rock that should have been chiseled with runes and designs that appeared more Asgardian. It wasn't the worst prison he could have envisioned.

At least on his nightstand he had a few books and a bottle of wine. It was an unfortunate mercy, as the words in his tomes started to blur for him the longer he was in here. Well, he thought bitterly, venom would do that to one's eyes.

"Brother!" roared a voice down the hall. "I have news for you!"

Loki lifted his head slightly and looked out from beneath his greasy locks at the golden prince. He said nothing.

His never-brother stopped before him, cloak draped over his shoulders and hair grown a little longer than Loki remembered it. He could not see his brother's features from the distance and the harsh light, but seeing his brother after all this time sent a spike of anger through his heart; so what if the man who once claimed to love him never bothered to visit? So what if even his not-father did not deign to see him? He would not let himself be hurt by their negligence. It wasn't as if they were his family anymore.

"Do you not wish to know my news?" Thor asked in a more subdued voice.

Loki leaned back on his bench with his shoulders slumped but did not look at the man. If Thor did not bother to visit once in all this time, then Loki would not bother to answer.

It seemed Thor was caught in indecision. The great beast of a man approached the glass and put a grubby hand on it. Loki saw it vaguely from his peripheral vision; he didn't want Thor to know that he was paying him any attention.

Thor finally huffed and turned his back.

Loki let his shoulders fall, not realizing they had been tense in the first place.

Suddenly, Thor approached the glass again, and all at once, blurted, "SHIELD knows about your son, and now they are hunting him."

Loki let out a sharp bark of a laugh. He had no son! At least, no son that SHIELD could touch. No son that had not already suffered much. "The wolf, snake, or the horse? Tell me, Thor, what harm can mortals do to a Jotun monstrosity?" The thought was laughable. Besides, he had long ago disowned them at the behest of the Allfather.

"You are a good liar, Loki, but his so-green eyes do not lie. Nor lies your concern for him."

Concern? Loki hadn't cared for anyone but himself since he fell into the void. Well, there was the dog-man Sirius and his godson, but—

Horror seeped into his very bones. He should have kept his mouth shut. He should not have trusted Agent Barton, no matter that he was mind-bound at the time! He should have known that loyalty never extended to him. Oaths made to Loki were made of sand, as he had first learned when Heimdall and the rest of them betrayed him.

"You should already know, Thor, that I care for no one save myself. And that I have neither fathered nor mothered any children since Odin took the last away," he said, faking nonchalance.

Thor seemed to let out a breath of relief. Why was that? The man pulled himself up again, hesitated, and then tapped on the glass.

Norns, what was he, some kind of fish whose tank could be tapped on at the whim of a curious child? "What!" he demanded. He wished his vision were good enough to deliver a properly menacing glare, but as it was, he could only glower at the large blurry figure.

"This man is a fugitive, Loki. A dangerous one. You would do well to cease helping him and to aid us in his capture."

Loki was tempted to laugh long and hard. They thought Harry was a threat? They knew nothing! Harry could have been dead from his snake bite, from the maniac hunting him, from his own stupidity, for all Loki knew. He had tried, over and over again, to scry Harry's location, but he had little magic left to him and wherever he searched, there was no Harry. He had thought this a good plan. He would stew in here, watching Harry from afar and protecting him as he had during his incarceration upon the aircraft.

But he couldn't find the boy.

What of that Dark Lord, and of his followers, the Death Eaters? Were things so terrible in UK that even the government had turned on good men? How could he do anything for Harry from here?

"I know not of what you speak. Leave me." He would have waved a dismissive arm had he the strength. As it was, he was fed little, and lack of sun or fresh air was not doing him any favors.

Thor nodded stiffly. "I shall aid the Avengers in tracking this threat. Should you have need of me, simply say so and Heimdall will hear. I had thought you a good man, Loki, before all of this."

Ha, sentiment. Thor still thought he could be redeemed. "Listen, you buffoon—" wait. Calm, think straight, think of consequences. What would they do without his help? Would they go after Harry, regardless? Yes, Harry could be dead, but there was a chance that he was alive instead. Would they imprison him and hurt him, cage him as they caged Loki? It would be even worse if they suspected Harry meant something to him, because a monster like Loki would only ever care for a monster in kind. But with their help, _h__e could find Harry again._ At that thought, a pleasant warmth spread through him.

Loki shriveled up into himself. But then he would have to leave the safety of Asgard, a goal he had made certain in his childish bid for Midgardian candy. He was almost certain that the only reason _He_ had not come for him was to avoid war with the Asgardians. If he left that protection, who could say that SHIELD would keep him safe?

He swallowed his fear. No, he was a monster. What right to protection did he have? His priority right now was not himself, as surprised as he was to think it. If he were lucky, _He_ wouldn't be able to get _Himself_ to this dimension anyway. "If it will lessen my sentence, I will help you trace the fugitive." _And you will help me_.

* * *

"Ah, Agent Barton. How I've missed you," Loki said in a low voice as he passed by the man. It was only when he was a few feet from him that he even recognized his once-companion. To his dismay, Barton simply stiffened and went on his way.

Thor readjusted his grip on Loki's upper arm to a firmer one and gently pulled him away. "None of that, Brother. Friend Barton was greatly hurt by your machinations."

Loki rolled his cloudy eyes and flexed his wrists, bound as they were by those limiting chains. Barton got out entirely free and had the support of his friends to help him recover from the ordeal. There was no reason for Thor's overprotectiveness, nor for his crushing grip. Moreover, Barton told them about Harry. "My word, does the little birdy find it difficult to sleep?" Loki chuckled.

"Loki, desist!"

"Better we put him down, then. What good is a damaged little sparrow?"

He hadn't expected it, the bang and the seeing stars as his head was slammed against the wall. At least, not from Thor. He had to confess that the fear on his face was genuine when Thor had him lifted up by his neck and growled, "Cease your slander, lest I cease it for you!"

"And then what shall you do without my aid?" Loki rasped. Despite his godhood, he still needed air to breathe.

"Let him go, Thor," said a surprising voice.

To his great relief, the pressure was released from his neck, and he crumpled to the floor. He ignored the instinct to rub at his sore neck since he was in front of these whom he called enemies. "Thank you for your interference, Agent Romanoff, though I assure you that it was entirely unnecessary."

"Looked necessary from where I was, Bullwinkle," said the cocky billionaire, joining the woman in observing their newest prisoner. Stark was leaning against a wall as he ate thin crispy things, acting as a spectator at the ring.

"I am still expecting my drink, Mr. Stark," he said with a wry smile, trying not to betray his anger and indignation.

Thor hefted Loki up further and regained his grip on his arm."Let us adjoin to the next room," he said, ignoring Loki's virulent glare. "Fury is there, and he shall be mighty interested in hearing from my brother."

"Not your brother," Loki reminded him for the fifth time that day.

* * *

Steve Rogers turned to watch Thor walk his brother into the room just as the former boomed, "Loki Odinson!"

"Not his son," Loki hissed with a poisonous glare at Thor. The younger man's petulance would have been funnier, if he didn't look so worn with skin like wet paper. His eyes were dim and unfocused, and his usually sleek hair lied wavy and greasy on his head. It looked like he hadn't taken a single moment to groom himself. It was weird, since the villain always looked impeccable.

"So tell me, Loki, how long were you planning on this collaboration, and what's Potter's deal?" Director Fury asked him, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Loki looked like he was ready to laugh behind his green eyes. He lifted a thin arm and waved it as he spoke. "His deal, you say? He is searching for items of great power, and plans to overthrow their government," Loki said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Steve figured that to someone like Loki, it might have been.

Fury growled at the man's insouciance. "Okay, now tell me this. Why would STRIKE only have files on Harry Potter from a few months ago?"

What was STRIKE?

"It may be the case that their government did not want to have a so-called digital trail until it became absolutely necessary in order to catch him. Or if the government has no part in this, perhaps this so-called STRIKE of yours is being sloppy."

"Is he lying? How do we tell if he's lying?" whispered a voice far behind them. General agreement rose like a wave from the back, and those closest to Steve were shortly asking the same question.

Loki sighed, and Steve had to keep a strong hold of his temper not to do something about the man's arrogance. Loki shrugged off Thor's grip with a yank and a glare. The ratty green tunic he wore exaggerated the man's thinness as it whipped around his form at his jerky movement. "Do you not have other sources through which you can check the veracity of my words? Or is cross-referencing an outdated practice?"

"No, Mr. Laufeyson." _Did Loki just flinch?_ "We just know you're not the most trustworthy."

"Wise men, all of you," he said without an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. He didn't need to sound sarcastic for his words to carry his meaning. It was obvious to all that Loki certainly did not consider them wise men.

Loki leaned against the wall closest to him and crossed his arms, affecting a portrait of nonchalance. It was quite convincing. "Now, the question is, what shall you do? Will you work with their government or will you proceed as if this is actually in your jurisdiction? Does it really matter that this is a risk to the world? After all, there are politics in the way." What was Loki going for?

"This is under STRIKE jurisdiction..." said a hesitant voice.

"STRIKE?" queried Bruce. Finally, someone asked. Steve had never heard of it.

"Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies," responded Maria Hill. "It's a British agency that deals with superhuman threats. We wouldn't want to overstep their boundaries, sir." She had turned to Fury.

"The world is more important than politics," Steve asserted. He was never one to favor politicking over human lives. "We should at least see if STRIKE needs our help."

Fury shook his head. "STRIKE has been incommunicado," he said to the many frustrated faces around the room. "We can't tell if they're just being their usual close-mouthed selves, or if something is seriously wrong. And I don't know if the UK would appreciate our meddling in their affairs."

"We don't want to start something like a war, right?" said Bruce hesitantly. Loki was looking in the scientist's direction with a measured eye, and Steve didn't like it. Was Loki trying to start another World War? Was that his game?

Soon, there were arguments arising at every corner of the dim room. Loki was not the loudest, but somehow, his voice carried enough authority to drown others out. Steve watched the trickster make eye contact with Clint, and, innocent as ever, he asked, "Then shall you wait for the war to come to you? When innocents have been killed and when he holds his armies above all?"

Loki knew his audience. The SHIELD agents didn't care where they were deployed to serve; if it meant muddling through foreign waters, they would do as ordered. Bruce wouldn't want anyone to be hurt, and Steve was the same way. The only unknown radicals were Tony and Thor.

As Steve thought, Loki then turned to Tony. "And you, the Man of Iron. What benefit is your suit if you do not use it for good?" Loki was checking off a list.

Then, to Thor. "Brother, you say you love this world, but you would stand by and watch it fall?"

Yes, Loki was playing them all. Despite his delicate appearance, there was an inner strength which he harnessed for great results. Steve just needed to know why Loki so wanted them to hunt after this Harry Potter and bring him down. Although Steve sorely wished that Loki was encouraging them because it was the right thing to do, he couldn't trust the man. "What's in it for you?" he asked, once it seemed that the silence had stretched far too long.

There was a relaxed smile on Loki's wan face when he replied, "Oh, nothing. Truthfully, I shall enjoy watching you all, for you will not be able to bring down Harry Potter."

* * *

Well, at least he wasn't in a prison cell. Loki was rather surprised when he was led to an infirmary bed surrounded by white walls and various human works of art. They drew some blood from him—much to his great displeasure, as the healers quickly realized—and then left him to his own devices. At least none of their vials were able to hold his now-venomous blood. The silicon-based vials dissolved into sand trying to contain it, and the quartz ones shattered. Loki supposed some good came from being held under the viper's dripping poison so long.

He brooded for a long while, his eyes focusing and unfocusing on the painted curl of a leaf on the canvas before him. He was free from the Chitauri, only to find himself with these mere mortals. He squeezed his eyes shut and had his thin fingers knead his temple. He knew he would have to bind himself to them. They would not trust him otherwise, and to find Harry, he would need their resources.

Suddenly, a glass filled with a strange liquid was thrust before him. He looked down at the odd concoction and looked to the hand that was holding it. Ha, the Man of Iron needed his gauntlet on in order to offer him a drink? The rest of his pitiful team was in the room or hovering at the doorway. It should have bothered him more that they were able to sneak up on him so easily. He was fast losing his touch.

"What is this?" he asked, letting his eyes roam the subtle nuances of it; it was an ugly murky green color, and it did not smell pleasant.

"Absinthe and Guinness," the inventor said proudly. "One day, when I buy a bar, I'm gonna make this drink and call it the Loki. Or St. Patrick's Day. Try it."

Every eye was on him. Even Agent Barton, who was trying to project an air of disinterest, was peeking at him. it seemed to be some kind of test. Well, he hadn't had a drink in a good long while...he accepted the tumbler and took a sip.

"Not terrible," he allowed with measured appreciation. It had a burn that wasn't unpleasant and an interesting aftertaste. He brought it to his lips again and decided that he quite liked it.

"Yep, that's going on the list," said Stark.

* * *

Oh my goodness, we've broken 100 reviews! I love you all, and thank you for reading and reviewing!


	9. The Vow

**Chapter 9: The Vow**

"I don't get it. I...you said that you needed this kid protected so that someone _wouldn't_ destroy the world you were trying to conquer. Why is _he_ the threat now, and why are you helping us?"

Hm. Apparently Barton remembered his words and thought his last answer wasn't good enough. Well, the archer did know him well after his time in servitude. Loki shrugged and searched for the lie and affectation he wanted to use. He settled on blasé. "I wanted Potter ruling at my side. It seems his efforts have been noticed by even non-magical people, so he obviously wasn't as impressive as I thought. Regimes change all the time, just ask your lady-friend."

"You leave Agent Romanoff out of this," Barton growled. Successfully distracted. But now the man was offended and about to leave.

Loki so wanted the Barton he once knew. He remembered pouring out his worries to this man, but though they were both here, not a shred of loyalty for Loki remained within him.

"Agent Romanoff?" Loki asked, feigning confusion. Then, smiling as if he had just lit upon something, he crooned, "Ah, you mean Tasha. Dear, sweet Tasha." Oh, Barton was positively steaming with hatred. It was better than his apathy, better than seeing him leave. "Tell me, Clint, have you started courting her yet?" _Fight me!_

The blush spreading to the archer's cheeks was a wonderful thing to behold.

"Why are you baiting him?" asked the man who could turn into a green ogre.

Loki twisted his attention to the man. Why? Perhaps because he missed Barton's company. Or, he amended, perhaps it was because despite his penchant for lies, Loki himself could not abide those who broke their oaths. Yes, that made more logical sense. Heimdall, the Warriors Three, Sif...even Odin. Loki once considered the man his father, but it was a time long ago, before the Chitauri and before the void. Traitors, all of them.

And before him now was one who never really swore an oath to him, he thought as his shoulders sagged the slightest bit. Yes, Barton had pledged his loyalty often, but it was under the influence of the gem, and Loki knew that nothing was true when under its influence. He should not hold Barton accountable, nor should he imagine that this was the same man who listened to him and told him his life story. Yet, this was the worst because Loki had fallen into the farce and had trusted the man.

It was no one's fault but Loki's.

"No reason, he is just the easiest to bait. I well remember how _you_ responded to my words." In all honesty, he was thankful to Dr. Banner. It was his pounding that apparently restored the entirety of Loki's mind. What a mockery, that a simple thrashing could kill the gem's control. To think, he wasn't even slammed unconscious, and the blue had retreated.

"Yeah...I'm mostly sorry for that."

Loki scoffed. "Mostly? You should not be sorry at all. With an invader in your homeland, you should have done that in the first. Would have saved everyone a grand headache." Loki could only imagine what would have transpired had the Hulk, as they called him, smashed him with such force aboard the helicarrier. The portal likely wouldn't have been opened. Loki could have probably transported himself to UK and stayed there to covertly help Harry, and no destruction would have been wrought that day. The Chitauri would still be after him, but that was no different from now.

The scientist raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'll remember that for next time."

Loki hunched his shoulders over himself. This was stupid. This was pointless.

He couldn't even project himself to see how Harry was doing, with his magic completely bound again. That was a huge negative aspect to this whole plan, that he could not use his magic. He needed a way around that.

"So did they just lock you up in Asgard all this time?" Barton asked, sounding honestly curious. It surprised Loki that he hadn't left yet. The man probably just wanted to know that Loki suffered.

Well, no need to make him happy. "Yes, I was locked up," he responded tersely. In the deepest dungeons of Asgard, swept aside and forgotten, written out of everyone's life as if he had never existed.

"With access to your magic?"

Loki suppressed his wince.

"Some," he responded quietly. _Not enough._

Yes, he'd had access to his magic, but very little of it. And only enough to keep him alive each day after his punishment. He had tried, a few times, to project himself to Midgard and to seek Harry. He had dismantled the tracing spell back when he had healed the boy's snakebite, and now he had no way of finding the boy. There was no tesseract, no luck, nothing. Each trip weakened him and made him more susceptible to...his rehabilitation, it was called.

He could still feel the effects, and he could still imagine the muzzle and the chains at first, and then the venom on his eyes. When he tried to heal the damage to his eyes back in his cell, nothing came of it. Either he needed stronger magic, or the impairment could not be fixed with magic. Other than his eyes, the punishments left no lasting impression, so that in case Frigga or Odin or Thor visited (Loki laughed to himself, for Thor visited only the once), there would be no questions. Odin had visited not at all, and Loki had no way of knowing if the king were responsible for his suffering, or if he had delegated the specifics to another.

"You okay?" _sir_

Loki swallowed. He remembered a time when Clint used to ask that with more concern in his voice. As it was...

"Hey, what's wrong with him?"

There was just this acid in his voice. It seemed Barton's period as Loki's minion was so terrible for him. Loki seethed. "Tell me, do you have nightmares of your time in my service?"

Barton stiffened.

"Hey, there's no need for that kind of talk," said the timid man, Dr. Banner. He was looking apprehensive, and though Loki was grateful to the Hulk for snapping him from the gem's power, he did not wish to see the giant again so soon.

Loki relaxed into the soft leather chair. It was a great improvement to the hard bench in his Asgardian cell. "I was merely curious. I still have nightmares after all," he said flippantly. There was a part of him that wanted them all to realize that he was at the Chitauri's mercy just as much as Barton was at his. And yet, there was a conflicting part of his mind that reminded him that they hadn't been bound in the same way, that Loki had more autonomy and had made all of his decisions consciously.

No, he would not appear weak. However...he glanced at the archer. From what he'd observed, no one considered Barton weak. No one was holding him at arm's length for the things he had done under the gem's control.

Would they accept Loki as well? He had tried to destroy Jotunheim. He had tortured and then killed the magic-man whom he now knew to call Sirius. He had tried to save Midgard by conquering it. He had failed, and now _He_ was going to collect his debts. He was a monster and a killer. No one could accept him. No one ever should.

"You have nightmares?" Banner asked Loki. Barton had not answered.

Loki considered the scientist and humored the man's question. "Ah, yes. Nightmares of golden sunsets and mortals living their lives without me as their king. The usual, you see," he lied.

"No, you brought this up. Now you have to talk about it."

Loki rolled his eyes. "A world without me as conqueror is a nightmare."

Barton whipped his attention to him. It seemed he was finally incensed enough to lash out at him. "Don't you dare talk of nightmares," he hissed. "You don't know what it's like, to be back in those sewers, thinking things one way when you _know_ they're not right. Doing things that you think are good for humanity, when in reality, it's pure evil. Then waking up and not being sure that you control your own mind at all! You can't possibly know what it's like!"

Loki chuckled. "Oh, yes, I can't possibly know. _My bad_, Agent Barton," he said, using the colloquial term the archer himself had taught him. "Forgive me for being so presumptuous." He stood and laughed himself all the way to the bridge.

* * *

"Okay, we're getting strange gamma readings from London most of all. Followed by Wiltshire, places up in Scotland, Yorkshire, Ottery St. Catchpole, and Cornwall. Dr. Banner, can you interpret them?"

"Ah, so they have need for you, and not your irate counterpart?" asked Loki, as he followed Bruce around the bridge.

Bruce didn't know why the god was following him for the past few days. It was difficult to be annoyed with him, however, as he looked nothing like the man who tried to take over the world. He still had a pale complexion and the same arrogant expression, but he just looked...unhealthy.

Guiltily, he was relieved that there were still cuffs on the man's hands, though he couldn't help wishing that they'd kept the muzzle on. "I'm a, uh, pretty sophisticated scientist when it comes to gamma radiation," he said cautiously. How much information was safe to give to the god of mischief?

Loki frowned. "What does that science have to do with magic?"

It was a fair question, and Bruce was usually happy to answer the interesting questions of those inquisitive enough to come up with them. "A lot of times, we see a concentration of gamma radiation wherever we see lots of what others call magic. It's never high enough to be damaging, but high enough to be traced. The relationship is still unclear."

There was a pleased look upon the god's face, and Bruce wasn't wholly comfortable with it. "Uh, could someone remind me why Loki's walking around without a gun trained to his chest?"

The smug look fell, much to Bruce's relief. "I am deemed harmless enough with these binding my magic. However, in case something magical occurs, your Man of Iron requested I be present to translate."

A good explanation, but not one he liked. He decided to ignore the worry-inducing man as he fiddled with the computers a bit and glanced at a map. "Okay, so I've pinpointed the energy a bit more. Don't let the cloaking go away since we're low enough that the populace will see us," he said to others manning other computers.

"So quickly?" asked Loki. There really was no ignoring him.

"The Helicarrier can move pretty quickly when it wants to," Agent Maria Hill told him. Bruce didn't know if they had ever met. It was only polite to introduce them.

"Loki, this is Agent Maria Hill. Maria, this is Loki Odins-"

"Just Loki," he interrupted. He looked at her entire form and nodded. "I know of this woman. Barton told me of all the agents he knew at SHIELD. If I remember correctly, he said you had no extraordinary skills, but would recommend you based on your quick thinking and organizational skills. However, he never mentioned your beauty."

Agent Hill frowned but nodded. "I guess that's something of a compliment."

Loki gave her a winning smile. "Fact, Lady Maria."

Well, the god could be a lady-killer if he ever tried. Even with his dingy clothing and thin face. Hill cleared her throat and went on her way with the slightest of reds staining her cheeks.

"So um, were you popular with the ladies? You know, in Asgard?" Bruce found himself asking. He supposed he was trying to force himself to be comfortable in the man's presence while he was waiting for the aircraft to approach one of the gamma-heavy areas. Tony was busy tinkering with his suit, Clint wanted nothing to do with Loki, and everyone else had their assignments. He lamented to himself again, why was Loki following him of all people?

"When I lowered myself to that form of entertainment." Loki shrugged, an action that seemed unbecoming of him. "I did not often chase after women or battle. When I did go out, it was to explore the different realms as a peasant. Otherwise, I spent my time in the library. Much like you, I imagine."

So...Loki thought they were alike? _That_ was why he was following him? Bruce had to suppress a surprised cough.

"Are you troubled, Dr. Banner?"

And now he was looking after his health? Bruce didn't know how much more he could take. The man wasn't being aggressive or irritating; he was just there, and he couldn't relax. "No," he lied. He ignored Loki, turning his back to his screens, and interpreted the most intriguing readings he saw. "The stuff I'm getting from Wiltshire is really interesting. London might have the most activity, but it's too densely populated and we shouldn't risk being seen. Director, set a course?" The readings were different in nature from the other ones, and he figured it would be the first place to investigate.

"To area 00HY, then. Let's go!" commanded Director Fury.

It was a good feeling, knowing that an entire helicarrier would do as he suggested if he said that gamma readings were doing one thing or another. He imagined that if he wanted, he could direct them all to Paris so he could get a real _pain au chocolat_. This power was much better than any power the Hulk held.

"The other mortals respect you for your knowledge," Loki observed aloud.

Bruce wasn't sure what he was going for. "Yeah. And?"

"Nothing. I merely find it interesting." The god was frowning and looking out through the windows of the helicarrier. For the first time, Bruce wondered what Loki thought about in general. Surely, he couldn't always be thinking about ruling the world or subjugating mortals.

It seemed his questions would have to wait.

"You know," said Director Fury contemplatively, "I don't think we want to go to Wiltshire. Direct our course to another of those locations."

Although all evidence was pointing to Wiltshire, and although Bruce had definitely singled that one out, he found himself thinking the same. "You're right, director. I'm sure one of the other locations would be good."

He looked to Loki, wondering what the god's opinion was. He was looking gravely at the readings, though the god couldn't possibly understand them.

"There is magic here," he said, "and it is deterring you."

"No, we're out to find the magic. Which is why we're gonna go somewhere else." Even to his own mind, it didn't make sense. Except...didn't he leave the stove on back home? He really needed to get back home.

Loki looked frustrated. "I am surrounded by weak-minded cretins! Someone must release me from these shackles!"

That grabbed Director Fury's attention. "No one listen to him!" He turned to the green-clad god and demanded, "Why do you think we'd ever do anything that stupid?"

"Because," Loki hissed, "there is an anti-muggle field here, as there likely is at every other place you will investigate. Think, Director. Would you really be worrying about your kitchen appliances at this time?" Loki shot a glance at Bruce.

That seemed to snap the Director out of his thoughts. How did Loki know what Bruce was thinking? Or was everyone else also worrying about their stoves and ironing boards accidentally being left on?

"Someone get Thor down here," Fury ordered.

The Helicarrier drifted away, as did Bruce's worries about his kitchen being set on fire. It was strange magic; apparently it could affect everyone in the vicinity. It seemed Thor was unaffected, though, as he questioned the Director.

"I know not why you were all affected, or even what this was. You say Loki has a theory?"

Finally, Loki spoke up. "Not a theory. I know. I can sense it. You can't, because you've never bothered to tear yourself away from knocking heads and laying women to study magic."

Bruce stifled his laughter. Loki just couldn't resist a jab at his brother, and it was proving highly amusing.

"Then enlighten us, Brother."

"Uh, not your brother," Bruce apprehensively said from Loki's side, predicting the phrase that almost left Loki's lips. The dark-haired god looked to him with appreciation.

"Finally, a mortal who understands me." Bruce really did not want to be complimented for that.

Turning back to Thor, Loki tried to explain the field. Bruce could see how frustrating it could be, growing up alongside the big blonde man. As simple as the explanations got, Thor would pretend to understand up until the point when Loki would ask, "So does it make sense now?" Then Thor would woefully shake his head and ask for a simpler explanation.

Finally, Bruce interrupted. "So how do we cancel out the field? Is there anything we can do?"

Loki looked thankful that someone was actually listening to him. Ignoring his brother, he turned to Bruce. "Yes, but it would require me to cast some magic. And hold it in place."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Which means you want to be uncuffed and remain uncuffed."

"Absurd!" boomed Thor. "How can we trust that you would not simply vanish as soon as those cuffs are loosened?"

He had a point. Loki looked crestfallen. No doubt, this was part of his plan. "Shall I make an oath? Do you need collateral?" He looked even more disappointed. Everyone there knew Loki had no collateral, nothing at all to his name. Moreover, no one would ever trust his word.

Thor set his face into one of hard calm. "I think, Brother, that an Unbreakable Vow could be performed."

Loki's gaze hardened, as if he had expect this but didn't look forward to it. What was an Unbreakable Vow? And how do you make a promise_ unbreakable_?

"Have care, Thor. Should you word this promise badly, _you_ will not be the one suffering from its effects," Loki said mildly. So it was some Asgardian thing.

"Indeed," Thor said, some amusement lining his words. "So? Would you be prepared to do so?"

Loki appeared calm, but there was a sense of nervousness that only Bruce could smell. "Let it be so. Write out your promises first, so I do not accidentally swear to kill myself."

There was no smile of Thor's face when Loki acquiesced. Whatever this was, it was big. Given a sheet of paper, Thor scribbled out a few things and then handed it to Loki, along with the pen. Bruce watched as the younger god squinted at the terms, crossed some things out, chewed on the end of the pen, and then added some things.

In the meantime, Thor was explaining the nature of this Vow to Director Fury.

"It is called such because one who breaks the vow will die. It is used in cases such as these, when one party cannot be explicitly trusted. I can see no other way to ensure Loki's cooperation and to prevent the effects of this field."

"Cooperation, ha!" Loki said, coming back with the paper. He smacked the front it for emphasis. "Really? You expect me to agree to these terms? 'Will you perform no magic except that expressly requested by SHIELD?' And what happens, Thor, when I try to heal myself? Or if I must act in an emergency? You would have me dead! And you call me your dear brother..."

Bruce looked over the paper at the words that were crossed out and amended. Very little remained of Thor's handwriting. 'Will you swear allegiance to SHIELD and no other' was crossed out and replaced with, 'Will you protect those associated positively with SHIELD to the best of your ability and for the betterment of the world?' It was certainly more specific, and seemed almost generous. Loki was offering to_ protect_ them.

Thor swept the paper away and looked at the conditions. He handed the paper over to Director Fury, who made a few changes and then handed it back to Loki. It changed hands quite a few more times, and after much arguing, grunting and outbursts, it seemed they were all finally in agreement.

Now, the binding. Bruce didn't realize how much he was looking forward to seeing this bit of magic cast. Now that the time was here, he was wondering if they would just sign some papers and go on with their lives.

Instead, they all relocated to Loki's white room-they still hadn't relocated him from the sick-bay-and were joined by the other avengers. All technicians were gone, all other staff. Just them and Loki. Even Director Fury was absent. Was that part of the conditions?

The brothers knelt across from each other, Loki's right hand on Thor's wrist and Thor's hand on Loki's. Thor looked quite intent on getting this right, and didn't glance at anyone else in the room. "Will you, Loki, use your magic for the betterment of this realm and never for its destruction?

Loki looked him in the eye. "I will." A tendril of red light materialized from nowhere and loosely wrapped around their clasped hands. It seemed like a huge concession. Bruce figured it was like giving up villainy forever.

Thor continued. "And, should anyone in this room ask you to cease your magic for a time, will you do so, as long as either party considers this alliance valid?" Ah, so that was why they were all here. They would have some leverage over him. And that last clause was likely there for Loki's comfort.

The younger god seemed to hesitate, but it didn't last long. "I will." Another thin red light joined the first one.

"And will you assist and protect those in this room to the best of your ability as long as either party considers this alliance valid?"

As Loki uttered, "I will," a third light twirled around the other lights. The three lights pulsed once and then dissolved into their skin, leaving a pale discoloration on both their hands. As soon as the light disappeared, Loki snatched his hand away and held it close to himself. Thor disengaged one of the cuffs, just as Loki waved his fingers a bit to loosen the other..

He flexed his fingers once, and his threadbare clothing shimmered until he was wearing a version of that leather garb he used to wear. Thankfully, he had foregone the headgear. His hair straightened out, except for the slightest curl at the ends, and the grease vanished. A healthier color now tinged his skin, and he seemed to be standing straighter. Now this looked like the Loki they had once fought in New York.

He noticed, however, that Loki's face had filled out as well. Bruce didn't think magic could heal a person to that extent; gaining that much weight would send someone into shock. Either Loki used a lot of magic to fix all of his body's problems, or the picture of health was an illusion.

"Now then," he said with his eyes shining green-so green that Bruce swore it was fake-"it is time to dismantle some wards."

* * *

Thanks for reading! I had some unhappy critics last chapter, but hopefully some of you liked this chapter. If I don't respond to your review, it might be because the answer would require me to spoil a later chapter. Be patient, guys. Have a great week, and don't forget to review!


	10. Shock!

**Chapter 10: Shock!**

As showy as all that was, Tony was skeptical. Loki was giving up way too much. He imagined he knew how Loki thought (after all, he was the one would figured out Loki would use Stark Tower for the invasion), and he didn't think the god would agree to such terms so easily.

What was he trying to pull? Was he so desperate to get his magic back? Or was it like last time, and part of his plan was to sabotage them upon their own ship? Well, whatever his game was, Tony would be on the alert.

As soon as Loki got to his feet, he waved an arm. "Now then, it is time to dismantle some wards." There were no impressive lights, no colors. There was, however, a strange feeling that overcame them. Just half an hour ago, Tony had felt a pressing need to work in his lab back home, to turn off his lasers because he might have left one of them on. Now, he marveled at how ridiculous it was. He didn't even realize that those feelings were still there until they were vanished by Loki's magic.

Looking sideways at the trickster, Tony said, "Thanks, Reindeer Games. Now what?"

The god's eyes were practically shining with green mirth. Tony hasn't noticed how dull those eyes had been lately. They were positively radiant now. "We must go to Wiltshire and see why Dr. Banner's readings are so unusual," Loki answered, giving Bruce a quick look.

It seemed like a good idea. What bothered Tony, though, was that he agreed with the crazy god. He wasn't accustomed to being in agreement with the god of mischief. Thor escorted his brother back out to the piloting room of the helicarrier, the rest of them falling into step. Looking around, Tony matched his pace with that of Natasha's.

"Hey, Nat, we should talk," he said, trying to get her attention. "Pst, Nat!"

"I can hear you, Tony. Let's wait until we won't be overheard by otherworldly gods." At that, Loki turned his head and flashed them a quick grin.

"Oh. It's a good thing you're so sharp," Tony told the assassin. He then curled a hand at the side of his mouth. "You better not use your magic to spy on anyone here!" Tony called out at Loki for good measure, hoping the vow would hold. If Loki wanted to risk his life to spy on them, then that was his prerogative.

"If only you had anything worthy of my notice," Loki drawled, not even bothering to turn around.

Natasha led him—and Clint—down another hallway. He didn't know why Thor and Bruce weren't invited, but it was Nat's decision to lead them to the Spartan room in which they were currently chilling. It was decorated sparsely, with only a bed, a nightstand, and a paperback book. "Okay, what do we think of Loki being here?" she asked them, leaning against the bedspread.

Tony awkwardly glanced around for another seat. He was pretty sure Hawkeye didn't want him sitting on the bed right next to his not-girlfriend.

"I don't like it. There's no reason why he'd want to help," Clint responded without hesitation. He looked incredibly tense with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.

Natasha frowned. "Thor said that by helping us, it would lessen his sentence on Asgard." She was just repeating what they all knew, but Tony hoped she had more than that. She wasn't the type to take things as they were first presented.

"But this brought him to Earth," Hawkeye said. "I bet he has a plan."

"If he does have a plan, then it's good we can monitor him," replied Nat.

"Maybe he wants us to think that," he countered. The conversation between the two was so rapid-fire quick that Tony wasn't sure when he'd get a word in edgewise. They continued to argue, throwing in some random spy mumbo jumbo every now and then.

"He is not an EC!" she scolded him.

"He was, and he might as well be now."

"Hold up," Tony finally interrupted them. "Something is definitely going on with him—"

"Tony agrees with me!" Barton said, throwing out his arms.

"Shh. Zip it." Tony continued, "But I think we should wait and see. It's not that House Baratheon just wants to escape. If he wanted, he would've already." Tony wondered if the assassins were familiar enough with popular culture to understand the reference. He'd already explained Game of Thrones to Thor, but that had been a bust. He thought the dragons and sex would appeal to the caped man...

He was brought out of his musings by Natasha's voice. "Tony's right about that. Loki could have teleported out as soon as the vows were finished and before we could command him to stay. He could do anything, as long as he _perceived_ it to be for the good of Earth. A huge oversight." Clint was nodding, so Tony supposed that the both of them had noticed it at the time. Tony was surprised it hadn't occurred to him earlier. It did seem like a pretty big loophole. Well, it's good they all agreed on something. Go team!

"But who's to say what's good for the Earth? Does this voodoo depend on Blondie's definition or Bambi's?" He was having way too much fun with the names, but since nobody had called him out on it yet, he had no reason to stop.

"We could just ask Thor," Natasha suggested.

"Like he'd know," Clint said with a little bite. Tony didn't understand the animosity between Clint and Thor, but he would bet it had something to do with spending too much time in Loki's company.

"Magic isn't really his forte," Nat conceded, "but we can still ask him. "

"You know he'd just ask Loki. No subtlety," Again, with the dislike of Thor. Maybe someone should tell Clint that the big blond was not the bad guy here.

"Well, what if it's objective good?" she said, throwing an idea out there. She was starting to look irritated with Clint's pessimism. That is, she was just as unruffled as ever, but her eyes were narrowed the slightest bit at the archer.

"As if there's such a thing." Clint pouted. "Anyway, does it matter if that was the case? He's entirely too eager to be here."

"So," Tony interrupted again—he hated feeling like he was interrupting when it was supposed to be a conversation between the _three _of them, "supposing he wants to be here. I'm thinking he wants to find this Potter guy and join up with him." Tony finally gave his opinion before they could start arguing between themselves again. "That's my thought."

Clint looked troubled, but Natasha seemed to agree with Tony's idea. "I was thinking the same."

"But then he did take those oaths. He can't do anything we expressly say we don't want him to if we're to believe they're real. And we can tell him not to betray us for Potter." There was something hesitant in Clint's tone, as if he didn't really want to order Loki around. The word 'Stockholm' made a guest appearance in Tony's thoughts.

Natasha shook her head slowly. "How are we to know? Just because there were some pretty lights doesn't mean that it's binding. We have to test the vow somehow."

That was making Tony uncomfortable. Testing it? "Wouldn't that require him to, you know, die?"

Clint snapped his mouth shut and then huffed.

Natasha glanced at the archer. "What? Testing him is our best option."

"No sweat off my back," Hawkeye lied, clearly uncomfortable with the Black Widow's suggestion. His fists were clenched harder and though he was leaning against the wall, he didn't seem at all relaxed. No, Clint didn't hate Loki as much as he was pretending to. Tony remembered how the archer so fondly recounted Loki's more amusing 'Asgardianisms,' like misnaming countries or devices.

"Clint..." Natasha started.

"Listen, whatever magic produced those lights wasn't coming from Loki because he was still bound. I think those were legitimate. And Loki might act like he thinks ahead of everyone else, but he's an impulsive guy at the bottom of things. Cmon, god of chaos? What part of chaos is planned? If you test him and he acts without thinking, it'll be your fault for his death. I don't trust him, but I don't think risking his life is the way to see if he's trustworthy." Defending Loki wasn't quite the thing Tony thought the archer should be doing. Not when half the psych team thought he wasn't fit for the field yet. Oh wait, Tony wasn't supposed to know that.

"Are you saying that because you _believe_ it or because you're worried about him?" Natasha asked him softly, getting to the heart of Clint's problem.

There was nothing for it. The man stormed out of the room.

"So, you're dating that little ball of fire?"

Natsha glared at him and followed the path Clint had taken.

"It was just an innocent question," Tony said to an empty room.

* * *

"Are your sensors getting that peculiarity, Dr. Banner?" Loki asked Friend Bruce in the most neutral of tones.

His younger brother was now greatly relaxed, absorbed in the technology that Friend Bruce had laid before him. For Thor, it made the corners of his mouth curl up, to see his brother so occupied with things that were good.

"Well, they're getting something. Electromagnetic radiation...the frequency is anywhere from one-fifty hertz to about three hundred kilohertz. But there's something really strange about it."

Loki was now frowning, though Thor couldn't imagine why. Perhaps even this was beyond his understanding? It was a sobering thought, as Thor had always counted on his brother to understand everything.

"Tell me, Dr. Banner, is there anything particularly special about these frequencies? Or their wavelengths?"

Apparently Loki did understand this strange Midgardian technology to some degree.

"If we look at the spectrum, uh, I'd place these waves around the weakest. Radio waves, probably. Except that there's some interference, as if they're not quite...radio waves. I mean, the wavelengths do indicate radio waves, but...they don't, because it's like they're bound to gamma waves. Does that make any sense?" Bruce asked his brother, looking utterly confused.

Loki nodded. "It does, quite. Barton once told me of this radio. Perhaps you have one on board? One that reaches that frequency?"

Bruce called some others to him and instructed them to retrieve things and people. The lab techs told them Tony would shortly be on his way. Meanwhile, Loki was lazily looking at the readings. Thor was happy to see the familiar green shine of Loki's eyes, though he was still squinting for some reason. Had he trouble seeing still?

"Tell me," Loki started after a long while of only the sounds of clinking metal. To whom was he speaking? "Thor," oh, to him! "Do you understand any of this?"

Thor blushed. "No, Brother, you know-"

"Not your brother."

Thor continued, "You know I have no mind for these sorts of things. You were always the scholar."

A look passed on his brother's face, but as soon as Thor noticed it there, it had flitted away. "I was. Now see where my scholarship has led me," he said bitterly, waving his arm to the window looking down upon the control room of the large aircraft. "At the beck and call of mere mortals."

"Not so!" argued Thor. His brother was always looking for the dark side to things. He was always the pessimist. "You are helping them, and you are doing good. Surely, you see the value of this work?"

A smile played about on Loki's face, but it too left after a second. "Oh, I'm sure I will."

"So I guess you guys did need me. Coulda fooled me, with the way you were all buddy-buddy," Stark's voice rang into the lab. He was carrying an assortment of items, ranging from boxes to knobs to white bottles made of Midgardian _plastic_.

"Do you have it?" Loki demanded, twisting magic from his hand to transport the items in Tony's arms to the counter.

"Whoa, hold up, Home on the Range."

_Crash_ and _Rattle_ filled the silence as the different gadgets and things fell, some of them breaking upon impact with the lab's floor.

"Home on the Range?" asked Bruce, frowning at the wasted components.

"Where the deer and the antelope play?" Stark asked, seeking approval.

"Ah. Clever," Friend Bruce said in appreciation.

"Thanks."

"_Stark..._" hissed Loki. Thor wondered if he would have to physically restrain his brother. As safe as he thought they all were since the vows had taken effect, he feared that certain technicalities could allow Loki to physically strangle someone. If he deemed it for the good of Midgard. No offense to Friend Stark, but sometimes Thor and others wondered if he was so good for Midgard's continued health.

Stark looked surprised that Loki was there. "Oh, yeah! I forgot why I was even here. Hey, can you levitate this stuff over to that work table?"

Loki was seething as he did as Stark commanded, the same action he had intended to do before Stark had called him off. Stark's words were not simply a request, but a command. After all, Loki had promised to 'assist to the best of his ability,' which meant menial magic tricks as well as larger ones. Thor could see how this arrangement could quickly go foul.

"Try not to antagonize him too much," Bruce told him. Thor was thankful that at least one of them had some sense.

"Right. I won't," Stark said, innocently picking up one of the things on the lab bench and slowly, innocently walking over to peek over Bruce's shoulder.

"I'm serious, Tony," Bruce warned him, as he got started putting the dented components together. Thor was not sure what he was trying to make when all he had were wires and knobs and cogs.

Stark nodded. "No, I am too. Am I the type of guy to poke and prod things that are unhealthy for me?" He was walking around the lab now, ostensibly bored. "Oh hey, are those the gamma readings? Weird stuff."

Bruce was fully immersed in the construction of some kind of box as he replied, "I trust you've gotten better at not doing that. Poking and prodding."

"Your trust is likely misplaced," Loki added, his attention also taken by something science-y. The readings, Thor reminded himself as he suppressed a yawn. He would much rather be back in New Mexico with Jane than watching his brother conduct science experiments with these two.

In his boredom, he noticed a mischievous smile on Stark's face. Thor knew something would go wrong as soon as he saw him lifting a thin metal rod.

It was a quick spark. The sound it made was reminiscent of Darcy's taser, but seemed much less harmful. No doubt, Tony thought it would do little damage to one such as Loki.

Loki didn't react immediately. Or perhaps he _did_ react immediately, and Thor didn't notice until he realized that Loki wasn't doing anything at all. He did not respond with anger to Stark's action, nor did he retaliate. It was most unusual.

Instead, he stood there, frozen as if by a Jotun's hand, though sweating as if in the fires of Muspelheim. His breathing was shallow, and his white hands gripped the table as if his very life depended on it.

"Brother?"

A frighteningly pale Loki turned to him, for once not decrying their relation. That itself was cause for concern. The clear green was gone, and the look in his dull eyes made Thor stop. Such fear, such anxiety were clouding those once-emerald orbs!

"What evil have you cast upon him?" he demanded of Tony, rushing at the shocked mortal who still had that damned rod in his hand.

Suddenly, Loki was standing before Thor and Tony. "Let us... take a walk...outside," he said between heavy breaths. He still held himself with the posture of a god, though it was obvious to Thor that he was tired and ready to crumple into himself.

Shooting a glare at Stark, Thor put one of Loki's arms around his shoulder and led him out to a more spacious room.

"Tell me, what did he do to you?" Thor begged, once they were in an immense training room. Its size was so grand that Mjolnir took a full five seconds to come back to him from the other side of it.

Loki would not lower himself to sit on the floor, but he hunched over himself and took several deep breaths. "Nothing. I was merely taken by surprise," he said behind clenched teeth.

Thor was confused. "Taken by surprise? You knew he was standing at your back. No, what kind of weapon was that metal rod?"

Loki looked properly annoyed now, and not so shaky. "It was a simple shocking device. I overreacted."

"You did not respond with magic. You would always respond instinctively with magic!" Thor remembered quite well the times he would sneak up on his brother, only to realize that it was an illusion and that Loki had teleported away right before. Or, even before he learned that trick, he would vindictively cast something on whomever surprised him, even their mother. That was a most amusing memory. He had half a mind to regale his brother with tales of old memories when Loki spoke.

"Perhaps my instincts have been reprogrammed," he said softly, more likely to himself than to Thor. "Leave me," Loki commanded in a louder voice.

"Brother—"

"Thor, let us pretend that I have some dignity here!" he finally shouted. Taking a few breaths, Loki weakly said, "Pretend that you do not have me at your every whim, and just_ leave_."

Thor was wise enough that he knew which battles to pursue. At this moment, he needed to leave Loki to himself. As for Stark...well, he would need to teach Stark that one does not mess with the sons of Odin!

* * *

A long silence passed before Tony heard his friend speak up. "I can't believe you just did that," Bruce scolded him. Yeah, Tony couldn't believe it either.

"Our resident god-prisoner just had a panic attack. You saw that, right?" Tony asked, looking wondrously at the mini-taser. It didn't do much damage; it gave a little shock, and that was it. Last time, Bruce had just shouted "ow!" and went about his business.

Bruce now put a hand to massage his temples. "You can't just do that to everyone who comes in here with a rage problem. I hope you know how to apologize."

"Apologize?"

"Yeah, that thing that person 1 does to person 2 when person 1 has just been an asshole?"

Tony didn't know Bruce to swear. It was weird. "I was also checking to see if the vows really worked," he finally admitted. He had gotten a lot more than he expected. There was the fact that Loki hadn't done anything in revenge for the shock. He didn't think that was within the vow's jurisdiction. It wasn't like petty revenge on Tony would do damage to the whole world. Unless Loki was preparing some really great revenge. Anyway, there was the fact that Tony wasn't sure if Loki stopping Thor (and thereby protecting Tony) was an effect of the vows, or if that was all Loki.

Bruce hunched over his work. "That's even worse, Tony. It's probably best if you go. You don't want Thor com—"

"Howardson!" Shoot. Thor knew that Tony hated being called that. It was a far cry from 'Man of Iron.'

"Speak of the devil," Tony said, looking Thor up and down. The man looked mightily pissed.

"Listen, I'm off to go apologize to your little bro. We can have our little pow wow over lunch tomorrow, kay?" He hoped to be so quick with his words that Thor would let him pass, but the man seemed too focused on grilling him.

"What mortal magic has caused my brother to act so unlike himself?"

That was a legitimate question, and Tony didn't want to be the one to have to answer it. Frankly, he didn't know why the small shock had instigated a mild panic attack. "It shouldn't have done anything, Thor. I expected him to say 'ow,' and maybe shock me back with a little magic, but I didn't expect that." Tony hesitated. It was a question that needed to be asked, but he didn't want to be the one asking! Thor was still looking at him with that lost look...well, better get it out of the way sometime. "Does your brother often suffer from panic attacks?"

"What? You think he was panicking from a mere prick? He is not so weak-minded! You must have done something to him."

Weak-minded? Well, Loki wasn't going to get any better if Thor constantly spoke like that. Tony himself remembered when he considered it weak-minded to be overcome by dark memories, by the feeling of suffocation, by the thought of imminent death. He still had them, though this time around, those feelings weren't so much about Afghanistan as they were surrounded his thoughts of the void in space, that terrible time when he thought he would die with a nuclear bomb in his arms and Pepper nowhere to be called.

"Or...listen, this is a hard thing to ask, but maybe he's had a real bad experience with electricity? What was his punishment on Asgard anyway?"

At this, Thor clenched his fists. "You dare besmirch Asgard? He was merely confined to a cell!" Thor declared, crossing his arms. With a frustrated huff, he conceded, "Though the workings of Asgard are often hidden, I believe I would have heard if something so terrible befell my brother."

Tony didn't want to pursue that train of thought, not when Thor was so sensitive about Asgard's reputation. "Well, if not in Asgard, then it happened before he was taken back." And wasn't that an unpleasant thought.

"He was lost to the Void for a long while. Falling into Yggdrasil itself, his body and mind should have been completely scattered across the universe. I know not the events between his fall and his arrival on Midgard."

That sounded bad, but didn't really sound like getting electrocuted.

"Let's worry about that later," Bruce interrupted them, wringing his hands. He picked up the plastic bottle from the table which had been one of the things dropped earlier and then fiddled with the cap. Tony wondered why Bruce needed a multivitamin for this experiment. Weird. "I need Loki back to look at this radio with me," Bruce continued. Didn't he just see the god have a mini-heart attack? Didn't he want to know what caused it? Glancing at his friend, he could see that Bruce just wanted to move on for now. The man was an expert at sweeping awkward moment under the rug and dealing with them later.

Bruce turned to the blond man who was still seething and asked, "Thor, will you go get him?"

"No need," said a silky voice. Loki swept into the room, looking as if nothing groundbreaking had just happened. His illusions were back up, bright eyes and everything. "Dr. Banner, you said it was like radio waves, but not quite. Having thought on your words, I have devised a theory. Tune this machine to those radio waves."

And now, he was back to talking about waves as if he had just taken a potty break! Tony was about to confront him about it when Thor placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Loki is accustomed to hiding his hurts and weaknesses. Leave him be for now."

Although Tony was sure that Loki could hear Thor's admonishment, the younger god didn't stir and continued talking radiation. Looking between them one last time, he said, "Fine," and made his way over to Bruce's side. It made for an interesting picture; white noise crackling between the quiet mutterings of both science-minded men. Tony found himself longing to be on the inside.

"So, what's going on here?"

"We'll see," Loki said tersely. One hand was clutching the plastic bottle, and the other was hovering over the device. The box before them was styled like an old radio with knobs, but the numbers indicating the radio station were a digital read. Loki put his free hand upon the box and looked to be concentrating. The white noise gradually started to sound like human voices, but it was still garbled.

Suddenly, a clear voice erupted from the tiny box. _"—have you know that there was a Potter sighting in the Forest of Dean! So close, and yet so far. We'll get the little bugger somehow. Now a word from our sponsors."_ There followed a series of commercials, all for things more extraordinary than the last. Wands, sneakoscopes, exploding candies-it sounded very much like an elaborate joke.

"There you have it," Loki said, looking very pleased with himself. "The magical folk here have their own radio stations." Despite the stress he no doubt felt, Loki was glowing at his accomplishment.

* * *

So I know you guys are looking forward to seeing Harry again, and it'll come! Don't worry! I hope you liked the chapter anyway. I don't know if I wrote Tony convincingly, so feel free to give me your opinion. I tried being less pretentious :P. This is the last of my 12-hour work days, and I'll be going back to school soon. I'm not sure if I'll be keeping up with my update-every-thursday schedule (whoops, it's actually Friday...o well, forgive me for getting a few applications out of the way before updating), but I hope to. Keep reviewing, guys. It really keeps me going, and although I might not reply to every one, I certainly read them and keep them in mind when I write!


	11. The Radio

**Chapter 11: The Radio**

A day later, Loki was still playing with the radio. They had moved it to the control room so that even Director Fury could hear the goings on of the magical world. Unfortunately, since it was magical and the knobs seemed to be more ornamental than functional, only Loki could control the stations. This meant that the programs more often than not focused on talk shows and household magical remedies. It was an interest of Loki's, apparently. Either that, or the god just liked getting on people's nerves by forcing them to hear the prattling of homemakers and pompous radio personalities.

On the bright side, Loki had constructed some little magical knickknacks that were inspired from his radio perusing. They reminded Natasha of desk ornaments, like the metal balls that exhibited the laws of physics or that plastic bird that would incessantly dip into a small puddle of water. These were much better. Self-propelling metal airplanes (that looked just like paper airplanes shaped from chrome), animated toy soldiers (also made of metal) and computer chairs that were more comfy than they had the right to be (but would disappear into thin air at Loki's whim. Most thought this a fair trade).

Natasha was lounging in the control room, waiting for something, _anything_ to happen. It was quite boring, watching the god play with his new toy when he wasn't creating anything. He stood, inelegantly hunched over the thing with his eyes closed in boredom. He snapped his fingers, and there was white noise, followed by singing.

"_cauldron fuuull of hot strong lo-ove..._"

Snap

"_Put your hands up in the air, like an ogre who just don't care—_"

Snap

"_You'll love the new Silver Arrow 1000, the best racing broom ar_—"

"Actually, I rather liked that other one." He snapped his fingers again, and an angry man's singing voice filled the bridge: "_—you dance like a hippogriff? Na na na ma ma na na…_"

Natasha observed the relaxed atmosphere in the control room, and wondered if it would look like this if they played rock music here on a regular basis. Just as a few of the analysts were starting to get into it and repeating the refrain, Loki lazily snapped his fingers again, this time to a station of people talking. "_—to the WWN, where we have word from the Minister of Magic himself. Minister?_"

They all leaned in to hear, Natasha especially. This was the first significant thing Loki had stumbled upon in all of his fiddling.

"_Security has been, and will remain, the Ministry's top priority. After many years, we now have convincing evidence that the notorious mass murderer, Sirius Black, has died on the run. This is coming after a long period of uncertainty, due to the nature of his death. Thankfully, the good Bellatrix Lestrange was able to provide sufficient evidence of his demise. The Wizarding World no longer need fear the violence of Sirius Black!_"

Loki did not snap his fingers then, even as the news turned to other things. For the very first time upon the 'carrier, Natasha saw him sit down. Hm. Perhaps sit was too generous a term. He more slumped into one. That is, if a person could slump and still retain a haughty demeanor. Natasha didn't know why the Minister's announcement affected him so much, but she would get to the bottom of it.

"What do you know about this?" Clearly, he knew more than he was saying. It was the only explanation for the man's paler face, for how he clutched the armrests of the chair.

All the technicians, every pilot, and even Fury were attentive.

"I-this Sirius Black was the godfather of Harry Potter," Loki told them. He did not say it like a concession. He said it as hard fact. "From what I know, he was pushed into the Veil of the Death Chamber by his cousin. He was first arrested for the betrayal of a high ranking law enforcer and for the murder of twelve muggles. That is, non-magical people."

Veil of the Death Chamber? Sounded ominous. No one else seemed interested in the veil, but Natasha resolved to ask about it as soon as possible. There had been whisperings of such a weapon before, but only a select few had heard of it. She herself had only heard about it by chance on a mission somewhere in Northern Europe.

Fury nodded at Loki's information. "Someone double-check that," he called out. There was a clamor of typing and many frustrated faces. "Well?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, but it seems those files are either well hidden or non-existent. We might need Stark's help with getting in."

"Then get it!" Fury barked.

Loki leaned back in his chair, having lost interest in the radio. Everyone was aflurry with motion, trying to track down ministry files or whatever files were left of the now defunct STRIKE. Everyone, that is, except Natasha, who was too curious about Loki to do anything but observe him.

Seeing him so unarmed and thoughtful was strange. He looked almost...human. She could see now why Clint had a hard time sorting out his thoughts about the man. He was an enigma. His methods were difficult to pinpoint until after the fact, and his motives even more inscrutable.

She leaned against the console nearest him. "What else do you know about this mass murderer?" She would gradually get him to talk about the veil, whatever it was.

Loki glared at her. "Why do you think I know more?" he asked, when suddenly he doubled over and winced. "Curse this aircraft and all her occupants!"

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked, her senses on high alert for subtle attacks. An airborne attack would have affected all of them, so it was probably a long-range attack. Though from where, Natasha hadn't the slightest—

"The Vow...will not allow me to withhold information that you think will aid you in this endeavor," he said after a deep breath and another curse. Apparently, he'd wanted to keep that bit to himself too. That was it? Natasha couldn't believe that she had been worried. Composing himself, Loki said, "About Sirius Black, yes? What else do you wish to know?"

Well, best to start at the beginning, right? Natasha plowed ahead: "What did they do after he killed those twelve non-magicals?"

Loki seemed to consider her for a while. "He was sent to the wizarding prison, an island called Azkaban, where he festered for many years before his infamous escape. You see, no one had ever before escaped the prison due to the nature of the...guards there." Loki anticipated her question by saying, "You wish to know why." He smirked at her.

Natasha merely nodded. There was a hypnotizing quality to his voice, such that she couldn't pull her attention away once he had it. A small worry rose through her, that he was enchanting her, but it seemed negligible. So what if he wanted an audience? She wanted a story.

"Well, the guards are not mortals. They are not otherworldly either. They are creatures who have lived on this earth far longer than humans. They feed off of despair. They suck the happiness and warmth from a person, leaving him cold, desiccated, and hopeless. They almost left Black a crazy husk of his former self. However, this magic man-," a smirk grew upon Loki's face at the words, "-he could transform into a dog. And this is how he avoided going mad. One day, he saw something in a newspaper, and that prompted him to escape and swim ashore in his dog form. He contacted Harry Potter and became the boy's confidante, though not outright guardian as he was still a wanted man. A few years later, Harry Potter had a vision of him in danger and rushed to the Ministry's Department of Mysteries, where Sirius Black met the Veil. To this day, no one knows how he escaped that prison except for the few here in this room."

To Natasha's surprise, when Loki stopped speaking, there was a crowd around him listening with rapt attention. It occurred to her, very late, that he could be making the whole thing up. For some reason, she didn't think that was the case. Perhaps Sirius Black had even corrupted the kid. Harry Potter was young enough-Natasha knew a fair share about brainwashing the young.

"It all checks out," interrupted a technician not too far away. "They even have a photo or...something of him." He swivelled the screen so they could all see a wanted poster for a screaming man, the same poster that had been available at the beginning of this fiasco. It looked like paper, but the image was moving. Some of the computer analysts flocked over there, seeing as storytime was over.

Loki's attention was focused on the picture of the screaming man. It was not a look of curiosity or an escape from boredom. No, Loki's gaze was deeper, and it went farther than the mere picture. Natasha would bet that he wasn't really looking at the image at all.

Gradually, the crowd dispersed so that Natasha was again the only one left by Loki. He didn't look quite as peaceful as he was probably going for, but at least he was composed. By now, he had torn his eyes from Black's haunting visage and had them glaring at the placid clouds outside. Although she had been curious about the veil, she was foremost curious as to how Loki knew so much. It seemed, maybe only to her, that he had known the man well. "You knew him. So how-"

"Agent Romanoff," Loki addressed her formally. He was still gazing out the windows at the clouds and the sky, and spared not a glance for her. "Lady Natasha," he amended, "you would do me a great service if you did not ask how I knew him." His voice was quiet, but not weak. In fact, it held such control and strength that Natasha wondered how she hadn't noticed it before the attack on New York. Or perhaps he hadn't been using it in his cage all those months ago.

She swallowed. Was he playing her? "Why's that?" she asked him, noting that no one else was interested in their little conversation, and no one else was struck by Loki's voice this time.

"Because you think the information pertinent. If you asked, I would have to answer truthfully, lest I die." He frowned. "At this moment, I cannot know which I would choose."

Natasha huffed. Here he was, acting like he was suffering. "You realize you've only made me more curious," she told him frankly.

"Then ask any question. Anything but that." Natasha watched him for a few seconds. Approximately eighteen respirations per minute, so his breathing was stable, if a little slow. She couldn't measure his pulse, but she imagined it would be stable as well. It seemed he should have felt under some pressure, but there was no sign of it other than the slight tensing of his shoulders, which was only visible because he was wearing a light tunic as opposed to his battle gear.

"Okay then," she said. "How did Sirius Black die? Was it from falling into the Veil?"

"No," he replied, as if he were answering a simple question, like, 'is it raining?' She was waiting for the rest of his answer when he opened his mouth as if to answer, and then closed it again. He closed his eyes as well and let his lank hair fall into his face. Peering at him, she could see the corners of his mouth quickly turn up into a genuine-looking smile; he even had wrinkles near his eyes as if it were a real smile. With that toothy grin still hovering on his face, he let out a short breathy chuckle. Natasha knew better than to trust his smiles.

He turned to her so that she could see his eyes clearly. They were so green and bright, almost magical in their saturated color. All traces of the smile left for an instant before a smaller false one took its place. His eyes locked with hers when he gleefully said, "I killed him."

* * *

Loki was very, very tired. Since his magic was completely freed, whenever he had a spare moment, he was projecting himself out into the wizarding populace. He heard a lot, saw a lot, but nothing important. Nothing of Harry. He was maintaining the anti-anti-muggle wards, as well as his own illusions. He knew he should have been saving more of his energy for the scientific pursuits for which Dr. Banner was so eager, but even the slightest word about Harry would have made it all worth it. And he would not allow himself to look as haggard as he felt. He still had pride.

"We've found a lot of activity in this part of Wiltshire. We need you to disable some more energy fields," Dr. Banner alerted him, with Stark trailing quite a ways behind. Both Stark and his own brother were still acting strangely around him, as if he would go mental at the slightest provocation.

It was not his fault that Stark had shocked him. Normally, Loki had a tight grip on how his body acted. His mind could be far away and panicking, but his physical body usually showed no effect. He learned this coping mechanism when the panic attacks started in the dungeons of Asgard; The venom was nothing compared to his treatment at the Chitauri's hands, but they nevertheless reminded him of the long suffering.

It had been awful at first. Truly, the slightest surprise of pain would send him into full catatonia, and he would be convinced that he was back in the Other's grasp. Sometimes, when he couldn't sleep through the terror, he thought he would gladly sacrifice his free will to the gem again if it meant a reprieve from the pain and the paranoia.

"Loki?"

"Yes. Disable magic field," he repeated. A scientist somewhere in the room winced, and Loki smiled to himself. They were so uncomfortable with hearing that word, magic. Loki waved his left hand. "Done. Anything else?" he asked, affecting a bored appearance. He needed to keep his mind away from dwelling on the past. Conversing with Agent Romanoff had put him in an even worse place, mentally. He knew she had a penchant for interrogating others, but unless she was a better liar than he was, he could tell by her body language and her tone that she was only curious. She had no ulterior motive, only the desire to hear a story.

Dr. Banner scanned the readings. "There is definitely a lot of gamma radiation or magic going on right below us." Loki knew well what Banner was speaking of. He had projected himself down a few times, but something kept him from properly sureying the area above which they were now hovering. This was why they had positioned the ship directly above it.

"It is a very large house, almost like a palace. Likely many magical people reside there. There's something...off about it though, so I suggest we wait a short while more before moving forward."

Dr. Banner nodded. It was nice that someone listened when he conjectured. Banner looked down at the radio thoughtfully. Unbeknownst to the other mortals, Loki had enchanted the radio to respond to the turn of the knobs when Banner was using it. The doctor was the only mortal Loki trusted with his precious radio. Quietly, to avoid anyone overhearing, Banner said, "Well, apart from that, I was twisting the knobs earlier and found a radio station that was magical but concealed by something. Any way you can get into it?" he asked with a knowing smile.

Oh, the man knew how Loki so enjoyed puzzles.

He walked up to the radio; he could feel the magic pulsing, waiting to be released. It was quite a bit of work, to leave the wavelength untouched and to work his magic on something he could neither see nor feel. The white noise did not seem to bother the workers on the bridge, as it took quite a while before Loki determined the problem. "It requires a verbal password," he finally declared. It was strong magic that bound the wavelength to the spoken password, but Loki finally overcame it by deciphering the word needed. By then, the sun was set and most of the scientists had left for dinner.

Without pomp or circumstance, Loki placed a hand on the radio. "Albus," he told it.

".._.like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings on your street,_" a deep, measured voice started. "_Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken_."

Loki wondered what kind of radio station they had accidentally found when another voice came on. _"And what would you say, Royal, to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be 'Wizards first'?_"

"_I'd say that it's one short step from 'Wizards first' to 'Purebloods first,' and then to 'Death Eaters.' We're all human, aren't we? every human life is worth the same, and worth saving_."

Such beautiful sentiment, Loki thought bitterly. This human was surely with the self-alleged good guys. Probably those allied with Harry Potter. Loki's gaze swept the room. No one thought it odd that those on this station were questioning the validity of Purebloods first, though every other station had proclaimed it a truth. The radio program continued, but now there was conversation bouncing around.

"There have been an unprecedented amount of gas leaks and unexplained accidents all around the UK, sir," an analyst reported aloud.

Agent Maria Hill stood up from where she was and considered Loki. "None of the news stations we've heard have reported any violence. Why this one? Why this protected one?"

Loki knew why. It was a protection for Harry's side from the now corrupt government. Not wanting to risk breaking his vow, he spoke. "Likely, the government has been compromised, and a select few have been trying to get the word out."

"But these people condemn the term, 'Pureblood,' when our other sources had it pegged as a positive word," Agent Hill responded. She was a sharp one.

"Maybe this fugitive we're looking for already has control of the government," one man suggested. He was so wrong, and yet so right. The 'bad side' indeed had control of their ministry.

Agent Hill gave him a sidelong look. "Then why would that same government be putting out wanted posters for him? We found all of that at the same time, when it was obvious that they could wipe out data easily."

Well, now Loki would have to tell them that the news and the government were on the bad side. It seemed everything was working out his way after all. Perhaps this would have them know that Harry truly wasn't the one at fault-if Harry had survived the snake bite. This was all Loki had wanted in the first place; now, SHIELD would have no choice but to support the boy.

"Potter? Did the radio just say Potter?" a voice in the crowd asked.

Loki snapped his attention back to the radio and raised the volume with an upward turn of his palm.

"_Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you've appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive_?"

"I do," said another voice. A great tidal wave of relief flooded Loki's chest at the man's words. Knowing that Harry still lived was a wonderful thing. "There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. 'The Boy Who Lived' remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting."

Many eyes turned to Loki. The radio continued on, and Loki was listening with half an ear. It was reporting on what was happening to those who allied themselves with Harry. It seems many were hunted down, especially those who dared to show ostentatious support.

"You need to explain," Fury growled. It wasn't a command, not really. And Fury had been absent from the room when he made those vows.

Loki ignored him and listened to the radio, noting that the next password would be 'Mad eye,' whatever that was.

"Who are the Death Eaters?" Barton asked the question directly. Well, Loki couldn't avoid answering this time.

It was a silly name, Loki thought. "Followers of You-Know-Who," he said, nonchalantly using the name so many magical people preferred. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. They're a paranoid people, these wizards."

"Okay, I'm gonna need a team copying everything we got from the WWN. I want the earliest stuff. Another team needs to made a digital transcript of everything we just heard on this news station. Dr. Banner, I need you and Loki to make two radios that will play this station and the WWN at all times. Okay, hop to it, people!" Fury commanded.

Despite everything he disliked about the dark man, Loki would have to admit that the man was good at leading. He and Dr. Banner started construction of the radios which took very little time indeed.

He looked out the lab's window down at the control room to see all the workers scurrying around, trying to do Fury's bidding. Outside, it was dark and he could see the stars dotting the sky.

"Well, I think that's it, Loki," Banner said, setting the WWN radio on a table against the far wall. He and Loki had attached something for the mortals to control its volume and yet keep it on at all times. "We can probably relax now. They won't want us for a while."

Loki nodded stiffly and made his way back to a chamber he had appropriated as his room. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he projected himself down to the dwelling below once more. Usually, he could see the gate of the mansion and would not spare more magic to go further in. This time, however, he had new reason to put all his magic into it.

This time, he could see Harry.

* * *

I know this will need new edits, but I am very tired. I don't know why I picked Thursday to be my update day when it's most likely to be my busiest day. Anyway, I read and cherish every review I receive, even if I may not respond. Leave some feedback if you want, and I see you lurkers! Now is a good time to come out of hiding!


	12. The Escape

Warning: Fury's mother should wash his mouth out with soap. It is absolutely filthy...

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**Chapter 12: The Escape**

The figure was mutilated, but Loki knew Harry's magical signature by now, and it was right in front of him. Months of searching, and he had finally found the boy again! Satisfaction curled like a snake within him, and he suddenly felt relaxed and happy. Strange. He started thinking of a plan. Did he have time to alert the others at SHIELD? Did they yet realize who was the true enemy in this fight? If they did not, then he would risk everything by alerting them. And really, how could they even help if they wanted to? They were unprepared for this kind of magic; they had only realized its existence a few weeks ago.

Making up his mind, Loki's projected self slipped past the gates and onto the mansion grounds. It was a tricky bit of magic, and Loki wasn't sure if he had landed undetected. He had once encountered a vault's magical security system that sensed him even as he floated by in his non-physical form. He had no time to worry, though. Those who had Harry in custody did not seem the least bit friendly, and Harry himself looked like he had run headfirst into a beehive. Loki would extract his revenge from whomever had done that to the boy's face.

He moved into the house itself, staying within the shadows and making himself as silent and invisible as possible. He heard voices coming from what must have been the drawing room.

The voice was one of a woman's. It was shrill and irritating. "Where did you find this sword? Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

Snape? Funny, how often his name sprouted up. And was this the sword that Harry expected that old viper-lady to have for him?

Loki swept from shadow to shadow, getting ever closer. He hid behind a wall, though its thickness obstructed his hearing. He didn't know what kind of monitoring devices they had here. Using his magic to stay unnoticed was all well and good, but only if he knew what securities to bypass.

He heard more arguing and finally the clear words of the shrill one: "...situation is graver than you can possible imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!"

There was a pause.

"If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed," muttered the crazy woman to herself. Well, that was one problem crossed off his list. At least they wouldn't hurt him. Yet.

Loki ascertained the company in the room; there were many there, including Harry's friends, a goblin, some sour-looking blond men, and a wolf-man. Loki turned his eyes to Harry and let some of his invisibility fall. The boy looked at him with recognition in his wide green orbs. So the boy remembered him.

There was another woman, it seemed the mistress of the house, who argued with the first one. Suddenly, she turned to where Harry was just as the boy removed his gaze from Loki's location. He was smart then, and wouldn't attract attention to Loki. "Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback." She was addressing the foul-looking wolf-man. He grabbed the ropes tying the prisoners and started for a door that would lead down.

"Wait," commanded the sharp one, "All except... except for the Mudblood."

Loki bristled at the wolf-man's leering smile, for it was aimed precisely at the young lady who had been accompanying Harry all this time.

"No! You can have me," shouted the redhead, "keep me!" The boy was foolhardy.

There was more angry conversation, but something clattered in his head. There was a firm hand on his shoulder—had he been caught? No, suddenly, he was returned to his physical body on the helicarrier, and there was someone hand shaking his shoulder.

"You okay? You were spacing out there."

"What—what in the nine realms do you think you're doing!" he shouted at the unfortunate man. Barton. It was Barton in his room. The infernal man should have left him alone! This was his own time, and it wasn't as if they needed him at this very moment. He needed to go back down there and help Harry!

"Geez, man! Bruce just wanted your help with one of the radios. I figured I could interrupt your meditation thingy—"

"Cease your prattling," Loki commanded, putting a hand to his temple. The stress was starting to affect him physically, and he could tell he was close to a panic attack. He couldn't understand it. From nowhere, phantom pains started to accost his body, tightening his chest and preventing him from breathing.

"Hey, I don't answer to you anymore," Barton said with a hard frown, advancing upon Loki, "and I don't appreciate your attitude. You've been pissy ever since you set foot on the 'carrier!" And now a threat was looming before him.

"No small wonder, when I'm surrounded by imbeciles and buffoons!" Loki shouted, afraid because he could not understand this reaction and because he had no idea how Harry was doing. The pain was exactly as it was when he defied the Other, and Loki clutched at the loose fabric covering his chest. This couldn't be one of those; he needed to stave off the panic. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. The pain did not abate, but his mind cleared the slightest bit.

Barton wasn't going to cooperate. All he could see right now was the crazy Loki, the one who paced and planned for world domination, and all Loki could see in the man was a wary enemy. What he would give to see Barton as he once was, as the stout-hearted friend and firm confidante.

Not knowing what else to do, Loki placed his hands on Barton's shoulders. Dropping the magic that made his eyes shine and intimidate, he looked Barton in the eye and said, "Harry Potter, who is but a child, is in danger. I must go down and remove him from that danger. I will go there, and you will stay here and tell no one where I've gone. This is of utmost importance." He hoped to convey even the slightest bit of urgency that he felt. With the vow in place, Loki could only leave if Barton did not try to stop him.

Barton returned his gaze without hesitation, but he remained silent for a long moment. In reality, it must have been but a second. To Loki, it seemed like an eternity before the archer opened his mouth.

"No," answered Barton. Loki's hands limply fell away from the man's shoulders and hung at his side. Gathering his resolve, Loki swallowed. He would go ahead anyway, he decided, and die from the attempt if he had to. With this decision made, the pain ebbed away.

"I'm coming with you, and then you're explaining all of this."

Surprise and gratefulness were the first two things Loki felt. He gave the man a quick nod in thanks and immediately teleported them down to where he thought the cellar would be. That was where the shrill woman said to take the prisoners. When Loki took stock of their landing, he saw that they were definitely underground, judging by the cool moisture in the air. Nowhere was there a sign of prisoners.

"Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!" yelled the other boy from down a long hallway. So Loki's teleportation hadn't been too far off. The two of them rushed down the hall, but soon after, they heard a loud, deafening crack.

"What was that?" shouted a man's muffled voice from the floor above.

Whatever noise the prisoners had made, those above had heard. Loki cursed their lack of subtlety. What were they doing?

He signaled for Hawkeye to stay there as he investigated further. He was much better at staying in the shadows. It was no offense to Barton; Loki just had magic. He slunk down the hallway to see a rat-like man coming down the opposite way. Loki pulled himself against the wall and tried to camouflage himself against it. The man stopped short and was immediately tackled by the two boys.

Loki at least had to commend their bravery. Suddenly, the man's silver-_silver?!_-hand was wrapped around Harry's throat as Harry's was wrapped around the man's mouth. Loki pulled himself from the shadow at seeing the violence. This was ridiculous. He rushed down the rest of the hallway, a conjured dagger in his hand.

"You're going to kill me? After I saved your life? You owe me, Wormtail!" Harry whispered harshly.

To Loki's surprise, the silver hand relaxed its hold on the boy. In that instant while he was distracted, Loki flung the white hot dagger into the man's throat. The unfortunate victim gurgled a bit before falling over backward.

"You!" exclaimed Harry Potter.

"Who?" asked the redhead, who was still staring askance at the body and...the bodily fluids.

"Hawkeye, come along," Loki called behind him. He heard the archer jogging to meet him close to the entrance of the cellar. Still regarding Barton, Loki asked, "Do you have contact with SHIELD?"

"Never leave the 'carrier without it," the man responded, putting a hand to his ear.

Loki nodded. Though it was mildly annoying that SHIELD was constantly wired into the man's doings, it was useful. "Tell them to go to Tinworth, it is likely in an area that presented with strong gamma radiation there, so Dr. Banner should be able to find it, and they should be able to hover around there until we can meet them."

"As for you two..." Loki said, looking at the two boys.

"Hermione needs our help!" Harry pleaded with him. "She's up there, and they're torturing her for information, and—"

"Enough," Loki stopped him mid-sentence.

The boy shot him a betrayed look and turned to his friend. From above, Loki could hear that the questioning was coming to an end. And now, the crazy woman was calling Lord Voldemort to their very location.

Suddenly, a blank look came upon Harry's face. It would be one of the visions the magic man had once told him about.

"Hawkeye, take out as many hostiles as you can, but wait to go on my signal." Loki placed both his hands on Clint's shoulders, leaving some magic there. Hopefully it would serve as protection. He formulated a plan in his head: he could teleport them all to the helicarrier and then go up to fetch the girl. Strategies were forming in his head, and he paid little attention to what the boys were doing at that very moment.

Although he had noted the boys' shared penchant for recklessness, Loki hadn't really accounted for it. It came as an unwelcome surprise when at the sound of the shrill woman saying, "We can dispose of the mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her," the redhead stole the dead man's wand.

It was exactly the set of words that would rile the redhead into action. With a long and loud "NOOOOO!" he barrelled into the room, wand waving. Loki teleported himself and Hawkeye into the fray, strategy-be-damned. Even Harry had joined them, though Loki was very much against his involvement.

The boys were not bad. They were flinging varied-colored lights every which way, coordinating with each other as if they had experience with fighting. They were all doing well, subduing the wizards and pushing them back when he noticed a sound and then motion from the corner of his eye. He barely had time to register the blurry sight of the strange creature before a woman's shriek voice broke his concentration.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" screeched the woman. She held a knife to the girl's neck. Loki remembered Hermione well, and was greatly dismayed to see her so weak-looking. She hung limply in the woman's hold, so spaced out that she didn't even look frightened. Torture, then.

"Drop your wands, drop them! Or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Loki ignored their goings on, looking instead for a weakness. Harry and the redhead relinquished their wands to the ground, from where a young blond man was now collecting them. Hawkeye had quivered his arrows and lowered his bow. Most of the wizards' eyes were on him and Loki, but Loki's eyes were on the chandelier above the crazy woman. For despite the heat of battle, he had noticed the appearance of a little goblin creature. It had ears like an elf, but the stature of a malnourished dwarf. It was loosening the chandelier much too slowly for Loki's tastes. Like the god of mischief that he was, Loki smirked at the crazy woman and moved his fingers slightly, just enough for his magic to help the elf-thing undo the glass death-trap.

The glass hurtled down, just as Loki cast a weak protective spell on the girl. Thankfully, the woman threw her hostage away in trying to get away from the falling glass and Hermione was unharmed. In the same moment, Harry took his chance and wrested three wands away from the blond boy.

"We need to get Griphook and Hermione," Harry told Loki. The trust that the boy had for him was astounding. They had only really met today.

Loki nodded anyway and teleported himself to the goblin wedged under the chandelier. To be honest, he had spared little thought for the goblin. "Go!" he shouted to Harry. He whisked himself and the goblin to the girl's side and then to Hawkeye. They needed to leave, but what of Harry, the redhead, and the elf? Just as the woman hurled a knife at the three, the trio disappeared. Loki could only hope that they had dodged the weapon. As for him, he had stalled long enough. Concentrating, he put all of his effort into teleporting them onto the 'carrier.

When he landed on the helicarrier, he was exhausted. He supposed it might've been because the 'carrier was no longer hovering above the mansion and was instead zooming over to Cornwall. Teleporting into a moving vehicle was a great feat of magic for him, and he would have commended himself had he the time to spare. Also, he conceded, it might have been because he had spent so much of his energy projecting and searching for Harry. At least that wouldn't be a problem anymore.

After all, now he had new problems.

"Explain yourself," Fury demanded as soon as Loki's feet touched the floor. He put all of his remaining strength into pushing his shoulders back and keeping his posture straight. Show no weakness.

Loki glared at him. As much as he wanted to refuse the request—he had an almost unconscious girl and an injured goblin on his hands!—he knew it was unwise. "They were in danger. Agent Barton and I helped. These two are in critical condition and are in great need of a healer. Will I thank you when I tell the girl's parents why she had no access to medical care?"

Fury growled at him, but barked for Dr. Banner to come to the control room immediately. Loki supposed it was a small mercy that Fury didn't expect Loki to transport both injured bodies to the infirmary.

While Dr. Banner was fussing over the two, Loki hovered not far away. He watched the man work, testing all sorts of things with all sorts of mortal instruments.

"Now, Hawkeye, can you explain your temporary bout of madness? You can expect a citation for following this madman into an unknown situation."

"He had no choice," Loki interrupted before Barton could respond to the rebuke. "I teleported us before he had a chance to say anything."

Fury still glared at them and rounded back on Loki. "Then back to you, sunshine. What the fuck were you thinking, jumping into a hostile situation without telling anyone? I have half a mind to send you back to Asgard, have them deal with your crazy ass again…"

"Director Fury," Loki said calmly, all of his adrenaline seeped out of him, "you will need me in this. Harry Potter, whom I am sure you have now realized is not the threat, will need me. The vows I have taken are not defunct; when I say I am working for the good of Midgard, I truly mean it."

"I don't believe a goddamn word you say," Fury hissed, "but I do want to know what the fuck is happening. From now on, you report everything back to SHIELD. You better hope you get some good intel when he land." At that, he turned on his heel and swept away. Loki didn't know how the man did it, but his leather cloak billowed in the sweep of air he had created.

Loki put his concerns about Fury to the back of his mind and approached Dr. Banner. Apparently, the goblin had many scratches and two shattered legs. "Shattered?" Loki asked, not fully understanding.

"Yup. Pulverized. I do not envy the job of the guy who tells him he'll never walk again," Dr. Banner said with a slow shake of his head. Loki frowned and looked at Banner's assessment of the girl. There were many Midgardian words he did not understand, but just looking at her, he knew she was not doing well. She had a word carved into her arm and he twitched and whimpered. Their wizard torture seemed all too useful; it left no marks except for the imagined pain of the one suffering. Loki had once experienced something similar, and balked at the reminder.

He turned himself away from the injured. It was too hard, too _much_ to see them like this. Loki did not usually shy away from the results of violence (he was raised on Asgard, please), but this was a young girl. A warrior by no means. A scholar, a friend to Harry Potter who so valued his friends. Loki was thankful that they had removed her before that Greyback creature could get his paws on her. Small graces, he supposed.

Finally away from the stress, he turned to the pilot. "How far are we from Tinworth?" Loki asked, hoping that his weariness did not leak into his tone.

"Perhaps ten minutes," one of the pilots told him.

That wasn't good enough. "Can we make it three?"

For once, there were those in the control room who weren't looking at him apprehensively. If Loki were being completely honest, he would say that he could see admiration in the pilot's eyes. "We'll try."

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Thank you all for your kind reviews. 30! WOW! I knew it was a good idea to call you lurkers out. ;) Let me know if you noticed anything interesting or if you liked anything in particular. Thanks for reading, guys!


	13. Getting To Know You

**Chapter 13: Getting To Know You**

Loki brought the helicarrier through the muggle-deterring wards and the pilots quickly found the coast. There was a small cottage on the cliff and many people milling about it. Loki teleported himself down to Harry's side, neglecting to say anything to those on the 'carrier before doing so. The boy was digging a hole, quite ferociously and single-mindedly. There was a small elven body lying motionless not too far away, covered by a blood-soaked jacket. Not just a hole, then. A grave.

Harry didn't even notice his approach and Loki cursed himself. If he had—if he could have teleported straight to the cottage, then he would have been able to heal the creature. Probably. Or if he had just thought a little quicker, if he had stopped the foolish boys from attacking in the first place, then he could have prevented this death that obviously hurt Harry so. _Surely,_ there was something that Loki could have done but didn't.

He lifted the jacket and inspected the opening. The wound was small and was bleeding sluggishly. Loki spread a palm over the open wound and knit the tissue together. First, the heart, and then the chipped ribcage, and finally the wrinkled green skin. He vanished the blood, and looked down at the pitiful creature who had the appearance of mere sleep. Once life left, no matter how pristine the body, the soul would not return. SHIELD might have called his abilities thaumaturgy, but Loki was truly no miracle-worker.

He gently laid the clean jacket out on the elf again. "I am...sorry for your loss," he said solemnly. Such emotion this boy had for the lesser creature. The loss of this life, though necessarily short and meaningless in the scope of the entire universe, devastated the boy. It both confused and awed him. After a moment of thought, he supposed that it was no different from the affection he held for Sirius and Harry, mere mortals who should have been below his attention. And yet, here he was, standing beside Harry and feeling compassion for him and his loss.

"What? Oh. You're here," Harry said, his mind not fully appreciating the moment. Something then suddenly lit up in his eyes. "Hermione! Is she okay?" The boy's grip on the spade was white-knuckled, and there was an unhealthy tone to his skin.

"She is fine, though the goblin is not," Loki responded. He thought out his next words very carefully. "My men are not able to approach this area, and I fear that teleporting the goblin, with his condition as it is, will be detrimental to his health."

Harry's eyes widened. "Your men? You have backup?"

A wry smile twisted Loki's face. "Not quite the backup you expect. They are from America, and have been investigating the situation here in UK."

"Why can't they land?" Harry asked, continuing his digging. It was as if he was not too interested in whatever Loki's answer would be.

"There is some kind of protection here. I was barely able to find it, myself."

"They might have implemented a Fidelius Charm. I guess it's good you overheard the location then," Harry said to himself. Finally turning to Loki, he looked the god up and down and leaned wearily on his shovel.

"Who are you, anyway?"

Loki knew this question would arrive. His throat was suddenly dry, and he wanted more than anything to have a ready-made lie for this situation.

"I am Loki, and I have been charged with your safety." Half-truths had always served him well.

"By whom?" asked the boy, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "You've been following me for a while, yeah? Was that one campsite the first time? Or were there other times, before then?"

Although the boy's questions were reasonable, Loki found himself growing annoyed with the interrogation. Why were his motives always questioned? His swept his irritation to the back of his mind and instead adopted a sorrowful mien. "I have saved your life countless times," he finally said, much to Harry's chagrin, "and yet you doubt me?"

Harry looked down at his spade and swallowed. "You're right, I should be thankful for your help, really. _Really._ But this is a war. And people die when I trust the wrong sort or just do stupid things." His green eyes flickered over to the motionless corpse.

Loki had to commend the boy. For all his mindless bravery, he still seemed to have a half-decent head about him since he suspected Loki despite his assistance.

"Unless..." the boy started. He glanced at Loki and his eyes widened. "Was the doe _your_ patronus?"

Loki had no idea what Harry was saying, but he let a mischievous smile play on his face. "Perhaps," he said with a wink. Let Harry think what he would. "In any case, the craft shall dock on the water, and I will teleport your friend to wherever serves as your infirmary."

"The cottage. Actually, they might attack you if you just show up." Harry wiped his muddy hands on his jeans and looked forlornly at the half-dug hole. He then shook his head slowly to himself and walked up toward the small house.

"I'll meet you there?"

Loki nodded. He cast a small, undetectable spell on the boy before he moved himself to the helicarrier, much to everyone's curiosity. "I'm retrieving the girl," he announced, walking over to Hermione.

A hand latched onto his forearm, and Loki's gaze ran up the arm and toward a face that was distinctly unhappy. "Remember, we need intel. Otherwise, we have no use for you," Fury warned him, his grip tight enough to bruise a mortal's wrist. Loki nodded stiffly and, though Fury's was still tightly gripping his arm, teleported only himself and the girl to the front door of the cottage. Harry looked greatly relieved at seeing his friend; she looked as if asleep thanks to Dr. Banner's nerve-relaxant.

As they crossed the threshold, Harry called out, "Ron? That guy is here."

Loki bristled at being referred to as 'that guy.' He took a step forward and told them, "Call me Loki." The other boy's eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. No doubt he had been crying for the girl.

"Hermione!" he crossed over to Loki in a single bound and held her head up with his hands, completely ignoring the man holding her.

"Fleur!" he called, "Hermione's here, and she needs...something, I don't know!"

A blonde lady floated down the stairs and toward them. She spared a brief look at Loki before tipping a vial of some murky potion into the girl's mouth. She then massaged the throat until it had all been swallowed. She pulled out a long thin stick and, pointing it at Hermione, said "_Ennervate,_" with a slight accent.

The girl's eyes gradually opened and latched onto the redhead's, Ron. A tiny smile bloomed there. At least someone was healed from the ordeal.

Loki caught their attention by clearing his throat. "The goblin requires attention. His legs were shattered—"

"Bring him here," Harry said with some authority. Loki looked down at the young man, for he was quite short.

"I told you, the bones in his legs are shattered," he repeated, in case the boy was a bit deaf. Or perhaps dim.

"We 'ave Skele-gro," the blonde woman said. "We need to doze him."

Apparently they had some other magical healing powers. Trusting their expertise, Loki teleported the injured goblin to the cottage. The matter with the goblin was settled quickly enough, and to his great surprise, the thing's legs were already on the mend. The night was approaching swiftly, and once the small funeral for the elf had finished, all the mortals retreated to the cottage.

The giant boat was floating peacefully on the water, close enough to be seen, but not so close as to get itself moored on the seabed. Loki had been collaborating with Dr. Banner on a device that would allow them to be unaffected by normal muggle-deterring fields, but this field was completely different. He had told Fury, truthfully, that the cottage was protected and could only allow those who had heard its location. Frustratingly, that meant that Barton could come along too.

So, come along he did.

"You must tell me how we may be of service to you," Loki said, staring Harry down from the other side of a maple dining table. Barton wasn't quite the actor that Romanoff was, but he held his surprise fairly well even though he did twitch. The archer probably did not think Loki would be so frank about his motivations in front of a SHIELD agent who, up until that night, had been hunting the boy down.

Although Harry had quickly warmed up to Loki, he leaned away from Agent Barton and his grim demeanor. "Is this one of your men?" Harry asked with the command of a war-torn general.

He was prepared to explain the situation when Clint cleared his throat. "Agent Clint Barton, a representative of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division of the United States government. We're here to sort out some suspicious deaths." Barton almost said it in an accusatory tone, but held back the slightest bit.

Harry didn't look impressed, even after all the big words. "Wait, are you a muggle? Or is that a magical division?"

Loki cleared his throat and sent a swift glare in Barton's direction. "They are a muggle division that deals specifically in superhuman threats. I am simply a magical consultant—," Barton coughed, "—and though many of those threats are magical in nature, even as muggles, this division can handle them. You shall see."

Harry crossed his arms. "And you, Mr. Loki? You're obviously not really one of them."

There was a smirk on Barton's face that Loki was eager to wipe off. Focusing on Harry, he explained, "I brought the issue to their attention. At first, their sources were claiming that you were the enemy combatant, that you were the so-called 'bad guy' in all of this."

"What?!"

"Ah, yes," answered Loki with a smirk, "The radio, the newspapers—all of them claim you to be a radical trying to overthrow the government, trying to steal magic from purebloods. After today, I think we can safely say that we should be on your side."

"Not so fast. You can't speak for SHIELD," Barton interrupted him. Turning to Harry, he slowly looked Harry over and said incredulously, "You blew up your aunt."

At that, Harry's cheeks grew red. "I inflated her! The ministry set her to rights as soon as they got there. And it was an accident."

"Breaking the statue of magical secrecy?" Barton barreled on, hardly pausing to question Harry's justification.

"To save my stupid cousin from some rogue dementors. Who were only there because the corrupt ministry sent them!"

"Two sides to every story, Mr. Potter. Also, it seems there's some antagonism between you and your family?"

Loki didn't think that the man was being an ass on purpose. Likely, there was an ulterior motive that would reveal itself. However, he supposed Harry would not respond to Barton's interrogation techniques the way the archer expected, and knew that the boy did not appreciate it one bit. "Agent Barton, have you finished? I think we can put all we heard from the WWN firmly in the propaganda category."

"Fine."

"Listen, you guys can stick around, but you're really better off going back to America. There are things beyond your imagination-"

"Like horcruxes?" Loki lazily suggested. The boy's eyes snapped to him and narrowed.

"What do you know about horcruxes?"

"Admittedly, nothing," he said, thinking of the brief sight he had of that terrible locket. "However, I do have a certain set of skills that would be useful. Especially when you try to infiltrate that woman's vault."

Harry's eyes widened. "What? But—how did you know?"

Barton was also looking at him, but with suspicion rather than wonder.

"It is a simple matter. You are searching for these objects, and this woman overreacted when she thought her vault had been compromised." Though truly, Loki only suspected so and was validated when Harry reacted as he did. "I shall aid you. I have extensive practice in shapeshifting—"

"And lying," Barton muttered.

"—and I can assume that woman's form flawlessly."

"You're a metamorphmagus?" Harry asked in excitement, as if the word were normal in his vocabulary. Loki was not familiar with it, but he could reason out its meaning.

"Of a sort, yes. At any rate, extensive planning will be required. I have seen Gringotts, and its defenses appear to be quite impenetrable." Loki smirked. "But we both know that appearances can be deceiving."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Which is why I need to ask Griphook for a favor."

* * *

Clint was pacing. He was never known for being a pacer, but sitting still was not helping. What was Loki playing at? At this moment, the god was on the helicarrier, hopefully clearing up a few things.

For one, Clint still wasn't sure of their relationship between the two sorcerers. He remembered, quite clearly, that Harry had been important to Loki. When they were hunting down the boy, it didn't make sense to him. Now that they were helping him, it clicked. Loki needed the kid for something, and wanted him to succeed. This made sense. But then why did Loki lie in the first place? Wouldn't things have gone much smoother if he had just told the truth about Harry's innocence?

Clint snorted. No one would have believed him, not with so much evidence pointing to the boy's guilt. Why _wouldn't_ Loki lie?

There was something that still nagged at him...right! Why did Loki care about Harry at all? Back then, it was because he wanted to preserve the earth he thought he would rule. Did that mean that Loki was trying to save earth still? Even though he wouldn't be ruling it? Or was there something else going on, encouraging Loki's hand?

This was why he was pacing.

His comm didn't work down here, probably due to the same protective magic that kept everyone else away. He was relegated to glorified babysitting since he was the only one who could access the cottage and keep an eye on the magicals. It had been humiliating when Fury confronted him about mindlessly following Loki into a potentially dangerous situation, especially since Natasha was harboring concerns about his reaction to Loki. Even worse, it stung that he had to be carried back and forth from the 'carrier by Loki of all people. _Devastating_, that he still had to rely on Loki for anything. Stupid Loki, whom everyone thought Clint was still blindly following.

Pacing, pacing. He walked around the tiny cottage, not finding a single square foot he had not yet traversed.

Then, he heard voices arguing. They were floating down from the second floor, but they weren't quite clear. He walked toward the stairs and carefully checked each stair for creaking before stepping on it. Soon, he could hear the girl speaking:

"…saved us from Malfoy Manor, but how do we know it's not a trick? Is there any reason for us to trust him?"

She was wise, if she wasn't sure about trusting Loki.

"So many reasons! He's the one I thought I saw at the campsite. He's the one who apparated us out of Godric's Hollow before You-Know-Who could get there! Hermione, he's been looking out for me for a while. He also hinted that he sent us the Sword of Gryffindor, and he seems to know about horcrux hunt. I bet Dumbledore sent him," said the fugitive, Harry Potter. Loki did all that? When did he have the time?

The girl huffed. "Remember the last time you thought something like that? We trusted Bathilda Bagshot, and look where that got us!"

"I just have a feeling, okay?" There was a long moment and several progressively louder creaks, as if Potter were preparing to leave the room. Clint held himself against the shadows on the wall, hoping he wouldn't be seen. It was a pointless worry, however. Potter sighed and continued speaking, "Didn't Lupin say that my instincts were nearly always right? And that I should trust them?"

She sighed heavily. "I'm telling you, Harry Potter, if anything bad happens, I'm blaming it on you."

"No need, I'd blame myself too." Clint could imagine the boy beaming.

Well, that told him a few things. Whatever was happening, it was all being orchestrated by Loki and these kids had no idea what he was planning.

* * *

Agent Barton was making him twitchy. Not only was he not helping with the plans, but he loomed. He stood over Harry's shoulder as he discussed matters with Hermione, and Harry could have sworn that the man was listening in on their conversations. The man was perfectly polite. To him. And to Hermione and Ron. And Fleur, and Bill, even Griphook. Just not to Loki.

"Agent Barton, do you need transport to the carrier this evening?" Loki asked, the perfect picture of civility. "I will be occupied for a few hours."

"Unfortunately," Barton replied shortly. Really, there was no reason for his rudeness. Loki was nice enough to apparate him to and from the giant boat every day, and Barton only ever replied with hostility. "Wish it didn't have to be with you," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Loki was unperturbed. "Alas, I can do nothing about that. So, this evening? You likely wish to dine with Lady Romanoff," he said with a harmless smile.

At that, Agent Barton clenched his fists and took a menacing step toward the taller man. "You shut your mouth!"

"Honestly, this again?" Hermione asked, breezing between the two of them. She stepped past them into the adjoining kitchen and stirred the half-cooked soup. Pointing her spoon at Agent Barton, she said, "You're always at his throat. I can't imagine he did anything to justify it!"

Harry smiled at her. She had taken his words to heart and had started trusting Loki. It was hard at first, but everyone else was starting to enjoy the quiet man's company too. It might have helped that Loki was clearly the only magical one amongst the foreign crowd who had recently thought Harry was the enemy.

Agent Barton huffed and crossed his arms. "Yeah, sure. Take me to the 'carrier. But tomorrow morning, I better be back here."

Loki nodded and placed a hand on Barton's shoulder. To Harry's consternation, the man flinched away. It seemed Loki was displeased by it too, judging by the few seconds Harry had to see his expression before they disapparated.

After a few minutes, Loki was back. "So, you are all having soup tonight?" he asked with a bright smile. Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he was becoming familiar with Loki's false smiles. This one was strained, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes weren't as pronounced. Did something happen on their boat?

"Yup," Hermione said, back to stirring the pot. She looked over at him and, with a nonchalance that Harry knew was fake, said, "Loki, you don't eat dinner with us often enough."

Loki leaned against the counter and peered into the pot. "I eat on the helicarrier," Loki said smoothly. The way he delivered those words just seemed off. Harry would have accused him of lying, but there was no reason for him to think it a lie except for Loki's hesitation.

"Well, the food will be ready soon. Why don't you help Harry set the table? And call down the others?" Hermione suggested, taking a small sip of the liquid.

"It would be our pleasure," Loki said, sweeping into the small dining room. It wasn't too big, but they always managed to fit everyone and his plate on the ground floor. Harry pulled out some bowls and cutlery and carried the precarious stack to the dining room where Loki was waiting for him.

Loki was watching him with an amused expression on his face. "And here I thought you used magic," he teased, waving a hand. The bowls flew to their places on the table, and a spoon landed perfectly in each one. Loki's wandless magic was exceptional. Harry had not forgotten how the man had healed Dobby's wounds while he was digging the elf's grave. He had not used a wand then either. Did he even have one?

"I was raised by muggles," Harry had to remind him. He had mentioned it once, the first time when Loki asked him why he was washing dishes by hand.

Loki rolled his eyes. "I was effectively the same, but that never stopped me." Loki paused, looking thoughtful. "To be fair, those who raised me did have magic of their own even though you rarely used it," he conceded.

"Those who raised you?" Now that Loki had done all the work, they just needed to call down the others for dinner. Basically, they had time to chat without the rest of the house breathing down their necks. And without Agent Barton eyeing them as if they were about to curse him.

Loki stiffened but relaxed immediately after. "Ah, yes. They raised me as their own, but never told me that I was not theirs. I discovered their lie myself. It explained my oddities, at least. They have disowned me since." Well, he was being strangely candor. It was refreshing, to have an adult who would answer Harry's questions honestly and openly.

Harry frowned. "That doesn't seem fair."

"Oh, it's certainly fair," he said with a lazy wave of his hand. "I lashed out in a most uncouth way and endangered many. In any event, it is not as if they truly spared any affection for me."

Harry was tempted to ask for details, but although Loki looked comfortable, Harry couldn't imagine that he enjoyed the topic. Seeing as how this conversation was going, Loki might have even divulged some more awkward personal information. Instead, Harry said, "I guess that's why you didn't introduce yourself with a last name?"

"Precisely."

"Whew, I am starving! When will dinner be ready?" called a voice from the upper floors.

Harry caught a glare that Loki sent toward the noise and laughed. "It's basically done, Ron! Call the others down!" he shouted back.

"Got it!" called the boy in reply. "We'll be down soon!"

All was quiet for a long moment. Loki's chair scraped the floor as he pulled it back to sit in it. Steepling his fingers, he rested his elbows on the table and looked up at Harry. He looked like a villain out of Dudley's cartoons, and Harry stifled a laugh. Loki raised an eyebrow in amusement and adopted a more relaxed position, leaning back in his chair. Still, he said nothing and offered no topic for conversation.

"So, er, how long is SHIELD going to be staying here?"

Loki looked up to the ceiling as if he were trying to think or remember. "I suppose until something else happens or until I have finished helping you. As things stand, they are still trying to determine what happened to their British counterpart."

"STRIKE, you said?" Harry asked, just wanting to keep the conversation going.

Loki nodded. "That, and I am...on probation. They would not want me to be left unsupervised for long, so they will not leave while I am still here."

"Probation?" There was something more to that.

Loki shrugged and then consciously straightened out his shoulders. Clearing his throat, he then explained, "I made one foolish decision that landed me in a hostile camp. They used me, but one of SHIELD's own released me. I think. Frankly, I did some terrible things under their control, but the agents of SHIELD recognize my talent despite the fact that I am still considered a threat."

Harry nodded. "Which explains why Agent Barton hangs around all the time," Harry said with a frown.

Another eyebrow raise. "I could bring another agent to your liking," he suggested like a parent humoring a child's whims.

Harry sighed and shook his head in all seriousness. "No, this is a safe area. The less people who can access the cottage, the better."

"Wise thinking, Harry. You shall be quite the adversary for You-Know-Who when the time comes."

Loki's nod of approval made Harry beam. It was nice, having an adult around again. For the whole year, it had been him and Hermione and Ron camping around without any hope. And now here they were, with help from another country even! It truly felt that Dumbledore was with them, now that Loki was here to assist. Loki, who had been the one protecting him all along.

Harry wanted to know as much about Loki as possible, but the man was quite closed-mouthed and uncomfortable. Harry was used to adults who were secretive, but he had the feeling that Loki would tell him anything if Harry only asked. Unlike so many other adults, Loki was already proving to be someone who listened to Harry instead of dismissing him.

"So what do you know about You-Know-Who?" Harry asked him, hoping that Loki would have anything that would help him in the fight. See if Dumbledore had told him anything. After all, Loki was working with the Americans, and those outside of Britain probably hadn't heard the full extent of Voldemort's tyranny.

Loki leaned back in his chair. "Truly, not much." Harry tried to hide his disappointment. "I am rather curious about his origins, and motivations though. I have heard very little of that."

Really? Well, something Harry could share then. "He's a half-blood," Harry blurted first.

Loki raised a single eyebrow, as if he were unimpressed. Loki's eyebrows were very expressive. Trying to save face, Harry added, "But he didn't know until he was older. So he's kind of like a self-hating one? And he's obsessed with immortality."

"Hmph," Loki said with a sniff. "Immortality is overrated," he finally concluded.

Harry grinned at him. "Try telling that to him. This is the same guy who'll tell you that good and evil don't exist. Just power."

"Advantage of the stronger," Loki stated as if he were reciting something droll. "How utterly predictable of a megalomaniac." After a pause, Loki asked, "How was his early life? And relationship with his elders?"

This was a sticking point. "Well...he was raised in a muggle orphanage, so he had it pretty bad. He killed his own father when he was older, you know. And enjoyed it." Loki pursed his lips but did nothing else. Harry barreled on, "Everyone loved him in school apparently since he was brilliant, charming, and handsome. But really, he was manipulative and chock full of lies."

Loki seemed to think for a long while. Then, he leaned forward and put his elbows on the dining table again. "You are saying that he grew to hate a group of people and then discovered he was one of them? Moreover, he was an intelligently manipulative man who strove after power most of all. I suppose a childhood such as his would create a monster like him," he concluded with a sigh, as if he were more than satisfied with his reasoning. "And he killed his biological father," Loki added with a soft chuckle.

No, Loki didn't get it. Voldemort chose all of that! Harry shook his head and approached Loki like he would back when he was explaining a difficult concept in Dumbledore's Army. "He wasn't a product of that," Harry argued. "I grew up with terrible magic-hating relatives, and I haven't gone around terrorizing them. He made those choices. Someone doesn't just get _born_ into being a monster."

The creaking of the ceiling reminded Harry that their friends would be joining them for dinner soon. Soon enough, they were hearing footsteps on the staircase.

Loki frowned at him, but Harry didn't understand why. Hoping to drive home the point, Harry said, "There's nothing predestined here. He chose that, and I've chosen against it." At least, he hoped that he had a choice in the end. Honestly, despite what Loki said, Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to be any kind of adversary to Voldemort when the time came.

* * *

You guys are awesome and I love every single review I get! Thanks for reading!


	14. Motivation

**Chapter 14: Motivation**

Darkness. Black. Pain! Oh, excruciating pain—!

Loki tried to gasp past the nerves flaring in his crushed hands, he tried to remember where he was, who he was, what he was doing there...

"Yeaaaargh!" shrieked a male voice.

Loki's eyes widened for that had not been his own voice. Sirius! He twisted his neck, trying to look over at the man. He was both elated and horrified to hear that the man was still alive. Was his ledger not drowning in Sirius' blood? Had he not ended the dog-man's pain?

As he pulled at his neck muscles, he could finally see the body that was held down by Chitauri claws. Not Sirius.

"Harry," he whispered.

The boy was screaming, begging, as the demonic aliens disemboweled him. No, Harry would not survive such treatment. Already, Loki could smell the sickly sweet odor of decaying flesh, and it made his stomach turn.

"Tell us about the Dark Lord Voldemort...tell us everything."

Was that what they wanted to know? Loki could tell them! Loki would do anything to stop them from hurting the boy.

"I shall tell you, I know all you wish to know about him!" he called out to the creatures, wishing with all he had for them to believe this one lie.

To his great pleasure, the screams trailed off into whimpers. Heavy footsteps neared him, and Loki knew it was his turn. Steeling himself, he asked, "What specifically do you wish to know?"

"Where is the last horcrux?"

"Don't tell them, Loki—aargh!" Harry shouted, despite the pain.

Loki panicked. Even if he wanted to tell them, he couldn't. He did not know and he hadn't the faintest clue. _Lie!_ His mind screamed at him, _you are the Liesmith, so lie!_ They would keep hurting Harry, and he knew Harry didn't know where it was either. Even if the boy did know, he was so foolishly noble that he would not give the information away so freely.

He tried to open his mouth, but for some reason, he could not. With growing horror, he tasted the coppery beads of blood and realized that his lips were sewn shut. With him unable to answer their questions, the aliens turned back to the boy.

"Loki, let me die," Harry quietly said, his eyes bright and green and determined.

He shook his head. No, he was not doing this again! Already, he had too many deaths on his hands. He could not bear having Harry's there too.

"It is for the good of the world, Loki! Please!"

Loki buried his face in Harry's hair and clutched at the boy's arms. "I cannot! I will not allow it!" he pleaded desperately, the thread having disappeared from his lips. He had no time to wonder where it had gone, not when Harry was asking for the impossible from Loki. To lose another like this was too much, too much!

Loki could only look on as Harry drove a silver dagger into his own abdomen, slicing from one end to the other.

"Harry!" Loki screeched, reaching for the boy who was dying a mile away. He ran as fast as he could, but Harry was tumbling down, down into the abyss, and though Loki feared the never-ending fall beyond anything else, he leapt after the boy.

He shot up and clutched at himself. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see—the vacuum was still there, enveloping him, choking him. But there—it was indistinct, but it was a green light, blinking at him like some dull, innocent farm animal. Loki's eyes opened fully, but still he could not see the room's features in the dark. There was no sound, save his own ragged breathing. No Harry, no Chitauri.

There. The hum of the helicarrier, and the slightest rocking of the waves. The Chitauri were not there. He was safe, and Harry...

Loki spared not a moment and projected himself to the cottage. Silent and invisible, he floated up the stairs and through a door made of reclaimed driftwood. He glanced at a few beds before finding the one he wanted. Finally, he let out his bated breath. The boy was not only sleeping, but he was sleeping deeply and drooling a bit. Loki felt a small smile creep onto his face as he watched the rise and fall of the healthy boy's chest. Relieved, he returned to his body and took a deep breath of his own.

It was just a nightmare. That was it. Harry was _safe_, and Loki would be damned before anything changed that.

The next morning, Loki knew he was supposed to continue gathering information about the magical world, but he could not bring himself to speak to the boy. He still felt unbearable shame and fear when he thought of his dream or of Harry's future. Instead, he sullenly sat at the dining room table and had a lifeless staring contest with the goblin. The creature was equally sullen and undesirous of conversation, so it made the situation quite ideal.

"Oi, Loki," called the red-hair'd Ron.

Loki reluctantly broke off the staring stalement and turned to the boy. "Yes?"

"Where's your wand?" he asked. Loki blinked. Ah yes, every wizard he had seen owned a wand, some kind of focus for their magic. Loki had used such things before, but they were hardly necessary for him. A few magic-users in the other realms depended upon such things, but Loki would never subject himself to such a weakness.

Still, he supposed he needed an answer. A man without a wand in this society was not considered a full wizard, a strange opinion he had witnessed in his projected travels. "I think SHIELD has possession of it. I am currently on probation for previous deeds."

Ron gave a long whistle. "Whew, what'd you do to deserve that?"

Loki wondered if telling the truth would be prudent. Perhaps an edited version of what he told Harry?

"Please Ron, don't pry. It's impolite," Hermione admonished him. Loki was grateful. He wasn't sure how he would have answered, since the story he had told Harry could not bear extreme criticism or curiosity. It would fall apart if Hermione thought to inquire further.

Harry joined Loki at the table and gave the goblin a curt nod in greeting. "So Loki, anything else you want to know? You-Know-Who's shoe size? Dumbledore's favorite candy?" he asked with a smile.

Ah yes, Loki's information-gathering sessions. He knew that his questions were great in scope and number, and figured there were only a few things he absolutely needed to know. "I suppose I need the details of the Headmaster's death," he responded. A few things were starting to come together in his mind, but he did not yet have all the pieces. He was indeed relaying much of the information to SHIELD, but Loki was coming to conclusions that SHIELD could never imagine.

"Speaking of things you wanted to know," Ron interrupted, "my dad and mum are working on that letter you wanted. It should be here in a few days."

Loki nodded to show that he had heard and then turned back to Harry. "As well as the kind of abilities we will face, particularly those of You-Know-Who." He glanced at Harry who had now adopted a pensive look. The boy wasn't really looking at anything, and he just seemed...lost. Figuring that now was not the time to worry Harry about the madman, Loki said, "At any rate, we can discuss such things at a later time. For now, let us relax, eh?"

Harry beamed at him gratefully. It was strange, having the boy's admiration and affection. They had only known each other for a few weeks, but in that time, they had grown closer than Loki could have ever wanted. And then, Loki remembered his dream. The boy was just another weakness, someone who could be used against him.

Thankfully, everything with SHIELD was working out, but what about…he could not even think the name without phantom pains shooting up his arms and seizing his chest. The Chitauri and their _leader_ would surely track him down if they could. That was Loki's only solace: that perhaps the Chitauri were unable to reach the Nine Realms. If so, then the matter with the Dark Lord Voldemort would be his only concern and Loki would not have to worry himself over an intergalactic war.

"So Loki, what did you do for fun? Before you joined SHIELD?" Harry asked. He always spoke as if Loki were a member of the organization, and Loki could see how it often incensed Agent Barton. So Loki encouraged it.

Smiling the slightest bit, Loki thought about his pastimes on Asgard. "I was quite the prankster, actually. Others were not so happy about it, though," he said with a laugh.

Harry's eyes sparkled. "Any good ones?"

"Let us see…" Loki wondered how accurate the stories of him were. Could he brag about his more impressive tricks without Hermione becoming suspicious? That could be a fun game, evading the girl's sharp mind. Latching onto a memory, Loki spread his arms wide. This was a story he had once related to Sirius, when he had convinced the a great many people on Midgard, "a neighboring village," he called it, that one of the Asgardian guards was born of nine mothers. "To this day, they still consider it a possibility!" He related more stories, each getting closer and closer to the truth of his mischief, but still entertaining the teenagers.

Harry was wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eye as he slapped Loki's back with his other hand. "Glad you're on our side, then!" he exclaimed, much to the others' agreement.

It was strange. It had been so long since anyone valued his company that Loki didn't know quite how to lieu of any words, he simply smiled and laughed along with them.

* * *

Remus' quick visit was a great joy for all of them, even with special agent Barton hanging around like an unwelcome raincloud. Loki was pleasant to be around, as quiet as he usually was, and he was helping with planning the Gringotts heist. He seemed as joyful as everyone else when it was announced that Harry would be godfather to Remus' new son, Teddy.

And yet...here he was, looking down at Harry with disapproval. "You will be just as reckless a godfather for him as Sirius was for you," Loki told him airily.

"What do _you _know?" asked Harry, taken aback. Never had the man spoken of Sirius, and yet now it sounded as if they knew each other. In all the few weeks they had been working together, not once had Sirius been named.

"I met him, and I know he cared very much for you," Loki said, his frown turning into a soft smile. "We were friends, for a time."

Harry didn't know why Loki had failed to mention such a thing earlier, but by the expression on Loki's face, It seemed he really had been friends with Sirius at some point. It seemed like a very big issue to altogether ignore. Why would he hide something like that?

"Did you know my dad as well, then? And my mum? You all went to Hogwarts?" he asked, trying to figure out why Loki would conceal something as innocent as a friendship with Sirius.

"Goodness, no," Loki responded with a laugh. "I met Sirius after his Hogwarts days, and if you remember, I never attended that school. I learned magic with private tutors and books. In my land, magic was somewhat...disdained," he said wistfully. There was a sadness to his voice.

Harry nodded, remembering what it was like to be the freak. "Yeah, the muggles didn't treat me too well either." He turned and smiled to Loki. "But it's okay, because I got past it. You did too."

Loki nodded stiffly, and Harry wondered if he had said something wrong. The man looked troubled. "I did not tell you because..." Loki paused, as if he were reconsidering the action of opening his mouth at all. He sighed and continued, "Because I wanted you to come to know me as myself, and not as a friend of your godfather."

Now that was refreshing. Remus, and even Sirius really, both liked him immediately because he was the son of someone they knew. It seemed Loki _actually _liked him and wanted Harry to enjoy his company in the same way. It was kind of touching. More comfortable with this reason now given, Harry asked, "So what made you say that I'm being reckless?"

"Ah, your plans," Loki said, with his severe way of speaking. He had a smooth voice that would have reminded Harry of Snape if it were deeper and slower. "You promised the goblin the sword for his help. You do not want to double-cross such craftsmen. Trust me." There was a faraway gleam in his eyes, as if he were remembering a memory long past.

Harry shook his head and frowned. He didn't know Loki had even heard that part of their plans. No doubt, he had overheard Bill telling Harry that making a deal with Griphook was a bad idea. Loki would hear him out, though. Loki was reasonable, unlike many of the adults Harry had come to know. Loki told him what he needed to know, and Loki didn't lie to him like everyone else. Reassuring himself that this was the right thing to do, he explained, "But the horcruxes need to be destroyed beyond all magical repair, and only the sword can do that since it's been infused with a special kind of snake venom. Griphook'll get it back eventually."

Loki's attention snapped to him fully. "Did you mishear me—?"

"You don't get it!" Harry argued. Loki was supposed to understand! He was supposed to listen to Harry's side and agree with him.

"What, pray tell, do I not _get_?" Loki was starting to scare him. He seemed so intense, so angry. Nothing like the mellow-mannered man who had been staying with them for almost a month.

Loki just didn't understand the stakes. Angrily, Harry said, "Those are pieces of You-Know-Who's soul!"

That silenced the man. He focused on Harry with dull eyes, and remained quiet for a long beat. Finally, he understood. Finally, Loki would see the wisdom in Harry's plan and would return to being the quiet, steadying force Harry needed.

"Nevertheless," Loki said with a deep breath, "when you make deals with creatures such as those, you must meet your end of the deal lest they take what they_ think_ is owed." Or maybe Harry didn't know him as well as he hoped. "You wish to survive to see your godson grow up, yes?"

Harry hardened his resolve and argued, "Yeah, yes I would!"

"Then do not be foolish, and find some other way to destroy those contemptible objects," he huffed and then disapparated.

Well, they didn't _need _Loki for the heist. Harry clenched his fists. They needed the Sword of Gryffindor, and no matter what conditions Griphook had for his cooperation, they needed to keep it until the hunt for the horcruxes was over. It was a shame that Loki didn't agree.

* * *

"Sir, although there is digital evidence of the thaumaturge population, all of it is recent, except for the wanted posters of Sirius Black. Moreover, we found evidence that STRIKE was infiltrated for a while by hostile forces before it was shut down in order to prevent more inaccuracies from being leaked," said one of the analysts. Most of helicarrier's occupants were still sleeping ensconced in their bunks, as the sun had yet to rise. This particular man had been uncovering things all night, and finally, they had evidence of foul play within STRIKE. "Also, the British Prime Minister is denying any unusual happenings even though there are clearly an unprecedented number of so-called gas leak explosions and demolition accidents, none of which have made public news."

Now, if that wasn't suspicious, Steve didn't know what was. He had been hoping for something like this, because he rather liked what he had heard of the Harry Potter boy and sorely wanted to help him. Since they had proof that the intelligence they previously had was corrupt, surely there was no reason _not _to help the magicals.

They had stayed parked there for quite a while, everyone every day bracing for the worst. They expected the resident 'God of Chaos' to produce some kind of...well, chaos, but it had yet to happen. He was unexpectedly cooperative. Steve didn't trust it, even though he sorely wished he could.

Suddenly, Loki materialized in the control room. Steve would never get used to that.

"Anything new?" Fury asked gruffly.

"Alas, no," Loki said, elegantly stretching his back. It was a strange sight. "They are sleeping at the moment. However, they are toward the end of the planning period. They have almost certainly warmed up to us." That was strange too, whenever Loki said 'us,' or 'our.' It was like he was one of them.

Fury nodded at Loki's objective report, spoken as if he were an agent of SHIELD. "We've put together a cohesive timeline of events, including the information you got from Potter," Fury told them all. Steve had seen it: a long line of things starting two decades ago, with the end of the First Wizarding War, and the deaths of Harry Potter's parents. There were incredible things on there, terrible happenings in every single year since the boy's first year at their magical school.

"You may add to it the details of Headmaster Dumbledore's death," Loki said. "A Malfoy, the younger one, disarmed him, and the now-Headmaster Snape killed him with their killing spell. A large battle then broke out over Hogwarts. I imagine this is when your STRIKE organization was infiltrated, as those on You-Know-Who's side became braver. Also, I hold here the message we requested from an insider at the ministry. I received it today from their visitor."

He did some finger-waving and produced a piece of parchment from thin air. It was a red envelope with a darker red ribbon glued to it. "If I may?" Loki asked, preparing to undo the seal.

Fury eyed the envelope suspiciously but eventually caved. No doubt, he was regretfully finding Loki's help useful. "Fine."

Accepting the answer, Loki pulled on a dark red ribbon which was still sealed with wax. The envelope took a life of its own and arranged itself into...an origami mouth? Suddenly, a man's voice filled the bridge.

_"Hello? Is this thing on?"_ asked a British voice. The envelope moved with the words as if it were a pair of lips. Steve didn't think it looked very official. Whoever recorded the message was no secret agent.

Fury looked at the talking envelope in bewilderment. Regaining his poise, he was about to respond when a woman's voice interrupted him: _"Yes, Arthur, hurry up before it runs out." _

_"Ah, oh yes. Well, Harry, since you're asking, we did work with a very hush-hush team, but they worked more with the Aurors than with Misuse of Muggle Items. At times we joined their agents on a few raids, but that was rare. You know my department, I spend most of my time dissecting various muggle arte—"_

_"The computers, dear, he wanted to know about the computers."_

_"Oh yes! I thought it odd you were asking. There was a huge hullabaloo last year during all of the ministry rearrangements when the minister discovered that the secret organization—not so secret anymore now, huh?—had been keeping tabs on everything and making it available to the higher ups in the muggle government. It was violent, Harry. I think the Death Eaters really did a number on them, especially since I think some of the agency's people were already onYou-Know-Who's side. I don't know who was responsible for wiping the information, but I think it's all gone now. Was that it?"_

_"I think so. Oh Harry, please keep yourself safe, and Ronnie and Hermione as well. Don't do anything too reckless, and remember that we love all of you—"_

The enveloped suddenly went limp and floated calmly to the ground.

"Well, there you have it," Loki said, picking the letter up from the floor. He flicked his fingers and it disappeared.

Fury glared at him. "We were gonna keep that," he said in an accusatory tone.

"No matter. You recorded it on your mortal devices at any rate. And now we know what happened to STRIKE."

Maria nodded. "Apparently, STRIKE worked closely with the Magical Ministry, and when their government was taken over by the Death Eaters, part of STRIKE fell under their control as well."

"Now we need to know who survived and who the traitors were," Fury said. With his hands clasped behind his back, he eyed Loki. "Is there any way we can ask our informant to infiltrate those guys? See if any of them are known former members of STRIKE?"

Loki shook his head. "I doubt it. He is in hiding right now, and he knew little to begin with."

Fury glared at whatever was in his line of sight. "Okay, so I want all ears on those radios, see if any names mentioned are in line with agents of STRIKE. Look especially for the director. Let's hope he's still alive somewhere," Fury ordered them.

There weren't many awake at this time, but the few who were went straight to work.

"Well, I shall leave you to that. I am rather tired," Loki said.

"Rest. You deserve it," Maria said. It was odd, Steve thought, that everyone was so accepting of Loki so quickly. Well, maybe not quickly. He had been helping them for almost a month now.

Loki actually spent quite a bit of time with Bruce, coming up with anti-muggle field-disablers or looking for hidden magical communities all around the UK and mapping them out when he wasn't helping the kids plan _to rob a bank_. Tony stayed away for the most part, showing up only when he wanted to needle Loki about the nature of magic. The two SHIELD agents were keeping mum about their opinions about Loki, but Steve could tell that they were both uneasy. Honestly, Steve had no idea what was going on with Hawkeye anymore, since it seemed the man didn't know whether to hate Loki for all that he'd done or to thank him for all he was doing now. _That _was what was bothering Steve. Loki was being too helpful, too useful, too _good._ It was making Steve nervous. And hopeful. Bruce seemed to find no problem with it, as did Thor.

As Loki was walking away, Steve asked, "Why are you helping him?"

"Excuse me?" Loki asked, pretending to be genuinely surprised. He had stopped mid-stride and was looking over his shoulder with a small guileless smile. Steve didn't trust it, but he wanted to. He was honestly glad to see Bruce and Thor so happy, but he needed to be sure that Loki was on their side.

"I mean, before you were helping us track him down so you could get a lighter sentence, right? Not that I ever really believed that, but now you're doing way more than we ever asked of you, planning with them, helping them, telling us all about their secret magic world. SHIELD didn't really care about any of this until you started it. "

Loki's green eyes locked onto Steve's own and bore into him. He could feel the heat from the man's unending stare. "Is this for fun, or do you really need to know?" Loki finally asked.

Steve's mouth was dry. "I need to know," he responded. He could tell that the vows were kicking in, because Loki's mouth screwed into a hard frown and his entire body was tensing. It looked like he was trying to resist answering. Steve could take his request back. He could stop this and let Loki go. But he needed to know. He _had _to know, or he would never be able to trust the man. Frankly, Loki was no god. He had all the emotions and reactions of a human.

"I...have grown to care for this boy," Loki flippantly started, as if he hadn't a care in the world. "I see in him the product of humanity's greatest cruelty and failings, and yet he perseveres with his goodness in tact." He looked surprised by his own words as he continued confidently, "He is a stalwart friend to those he considers friends, and he is brave, though often reckless. He is _good_, and it is a shame to see such good die in the face of so many evils, especially the evil that is this mad egomaniac who reaches for the impossible." Loki then screwed up his face, as if he hated his answer. But that was it. It must have been true, because Loki was now relaxed and didn't seemed pained by the restrictions of the vow. If there was anything more, surely the vow would have forced him to divulge it. Right?

There was a long moment, in which everyone was digesting his newest answer. Steve realized that it had been a bad idea to bring all of this up in front of everyone. His only comfort was that it was too early in the morning for many to be up and about.

"Then hey, here's a question: how can you justify attacking New York?" demanded a sarcastic voice. Apparently, Tony wanted to needle him about something else now. A something that was a sore point for everyone on the huge ship. Steve hadn't even realized Tony was around. He knew the man was an insomniac, but usually he just lurked around the lab.

Steve grew tense, wondering how Loki would respond.

Loki gave to Stark the same stare he once had concentrated on Steve and dryly confessed, "I cannot. Anymore."

Stark's voice started out congenially, conversationally. "So...I guess that means you knew it was wrong, right?"

Stark popped some chips into his mouth and continued talking. "Then why'd you do it? Thought it would be a fun little field trip, killing eighty people in two days?" He advanced on Loki, his voice still deceptively cool. "Did you want a playdate so badly that you would enslave one of _our_ friends?" But now he was gaining momentum and volume. "Maybe you thought we _wanted_ an army of hostile aliens to destroy New York City?" And still, louder and angrier, "Why'd you do it then, huh? Why!"

Steve knew what he was expecting: Loki would give some fascist speech about mortals not being able to handle themselves, and how his new world order would bring peace to the warring ants. It would be the same excuses that all dictators had.

But instead of proud declarations, they received a bitter riposte: "I had to," Loki snarled, a faraway look in his cloudy eyes. Wait, cloudy?

_"Fury? Come in, Fury."_ The staticky voice of Clint Barton hovered in the air and broke the spell holding everyone's attention on Loki.

"Agent Barton? What's the problem? How have you contacted us?"

_"I left the protective field around the house."_

Every person froze, some of them looking wide-eyed at their director.

"What? Why?" Fury demanded.

"_They've disappeared. Potter, the two others, and the goblin._"

* * *

So...I would greatly appreciate your thoughts on this chapter, because I really want to touch it up and fix it. It feels inorganic to me, but that might just be because I haven't reread it a thousand times liked I did with the other chapters. Leave me so feedback, folks, and I hope you've enjoyed the read!


	15. Loki's Five

**Chapter 15: Loki's** Eleven—Scratch That—**Five**

Loki tried, for one split moment, to teleport himself to Harry's side. When that did not work, he depended instead on a tracking spell he had placed on the other boy. Harry must have been under the cloak—what a cloak it must have been, to bypass Loki's magic—because Loki could not see him anywhere. Although the tracking spell he placed on Harry all those weeks ago on the cliffside hadn't worked, he was glad his spell on the other boy worked; by Odin's ravens, these children were reckless! So was he, when he thought about it. He should have checked their location and made himself invisible before going after them.

Though a few onlookers were curious about Loki's sudden arrival, almost every eye was trained on the girl disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange. Thankfully, appearing out of thin air was common in this world.

A beggar with a bloody bandage wrapped around his eye was on his back, apparently having been blown back. A stranger standing next to Hermione (wearing Bellatrix's skin) had his wand trained on the beggar, but a quick scan revealed that the stranger was none other than Ron.

Everyone was looking at them. So much for the heist. If they had taken Loki's help and advice, then they wouldn't be in this deplorable situation!

"Why, Madam Lestrange!" a man exclaimed. He was lanky and looked like a good wind would blow him over. His bushy gray hair and long nose gave him the appearance of a sick poodle.

"I apologize for the short distraction, Madam, but I have returned," Loki intercepted. He sidled up to her and put a hand on her wand arm. So she had taken the woman's wand along for the heist. How thoughtless! "How is your replacement wand treating you?" he asked, using some subtle magic and smoothly replacing the twisted black twig with a simpler one of his own creation. It was basically a wooden stick, but it nevertheless looked like a wizard's wand. She seemed to have noticed his magic and allowed the wand to be taken.

The man appeared flustered. "Ah, yes, I had been wondering. Rumor had it that your own was taken. In fact, I heard that the inhabitants of Malfoy Manor were confined to the house, after the...ah...escape."

Loki was glad to hear that those monsters were being suitably punished, but he was worried about Hermione's acting ability. He could do nothing if she gave away the ruse by acting like herself.

"The Dark Lord forgives those who have served him most faithfully in the past," she said in a convincingly haughty tone. "Perhaps your credit is not as good with him as mine is, Travers."

Loki had to commend her quick thinking. He knew many who would have wilted under the same scrutiny. The man, Travers, continued in step with her when she started again for the bank.

"Who are your friends? I do not recognize them." This man's questioning proved he knew little about subtlety.

"This is Dragomir Despard," she said, waving toward Ron. "He speaks very little English, but he is in sympathy with the Dark Lord's aims. He has traveled here from Transylvania to see our new regime. And this is-"

"Alexandru Tepes, wandmaker and another sympathizer." Loki gave the man a disarming smile.

Travers seemed slightly surprised, but composed himself quickly. "Ah, well. So what brings you and your—ah—sympathetic friends to Diagon Alley this early?"

Bellatrix Lestrange's lips pursed. "I need to visit Gringotts," said Hermione with the wicked woman's voice. Loki cursed inwardly. Had this child no lying bone in her body? Now the man would want to follow them—

"Alas, I also," Travers likely lied. "Gold, filthy gold..." The man continued talking, but Loki ignored his blather in favor of assessing the situation. Okay, so the children had changed their plans. In their original version, Loki was going to be undercover as Lestrange, and both Ron and Hermione would be voiceless grunts. Moreover, he told them not to use the woman's wand. No doubt, she had already told the bank to be on alert for anyone who had her wand masquerading as herself. The woman was likely crazy, not stupid.

Once in the bank, Hermione allowed Travers to check in with the goblins before her, as she pretended to give the history of the bank to her foreign friends. Loki thought it was a weak excuse; a woman like Bellatrix Lestrange would not stop in her errands to be a proper host. He glanced to his right at Travers, who seemed to be looking for a goblin.

He sidled up to the man. "Travers, was it?" he asked, faking a foreign accent—though slight, to account for his lack of one earlier. Thus far, he only had contact with Germans, so he used their language for inspiration.

"Ah, yes. Erm, Alexander?" the man asked distractedly in return, still trying to wave down a goblin.

Loki sneered, "Alexandru Tepes. Now, I believe you are one of the Dark Lord's closest?" It was a lie, but best to pump up the man's ego. "I see my companion has fallen somewhat out of favor, but I have information for him. Information he will find highly valuable." Travers' eyes widened. Now, he had the man's attention.

Before he could continue his conversation, he heard Lestrange's shriek.

"Identification? I—I have never been asked for identification before!"

Loki was tempted to let his forehead fall into hand. Really, his plan would have proceeded much smoother. He separated himself from Travers and approached the old goblin demanding identification. Clearing his throat, he suggested, "Will her wand do? I'm afraid it is a new one, however, and likely not the one registered for her. Though I do believe she had alerted you earlier as to her circumstances..."

The goblin still looked a bit unconvinced. Travers, too, seemed suspicious.

"You made her wand?" Travers inferred, lazily pointing his own wand at Loki. "With Gregorovitch dead and Ollivander run away, I didn't think anyone was left to make wands around here. And I've never heard of a Tepes wandmaker," Travers concluded, apparently forgetting all that Loki had just intimated to him.

Loki glared at the poodle-like man. Gregorovitch, why did that sound familiar? It was a name he had heard, maybe while he was in Germany. But he had taken no names in Stuttgart...ah! He was that man whom their Dark Lord tortured for information. Something was stolen from him, something that the madman desperately wanted... "Yes, I made her wand. And you would do well to stop questioning me, as after this transaction, I will have words with your master. So if you wish to make me late, and in consequence, make the Dark Lord wait, then by all means, go ahead."

Hermione, in Bellatrix Lestrange's body, tensed and looked at him with ill-concealed surprise. Loki retracted any praise he once had for her acting. Thankfully, Travers was too distracted by Loki's threat to notice her reaction.

"Oh, ah, well, Bogrod!" he called out, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again in a deeper voice, "Bogrod, I do believe we have better things to do. We need not trouble Madam Lestrange or her companions any longer."

"I shall need the Clankers," Bogrod told another goblin, who dipped away and returned with a grubby leather bag that jangled. The old goblin gave Hermione a long lingering stare. "Very well, Madam Lestrange. If you will follow me," said the old goblin, "I shall take you to your vault."

Loki had a few more words with Mr. Travers—"what a lovely wand you have, I should know. Say, do you mind? I have been instructed by our Lord to keep an eye on Madam Lestrange"—and convinced him not to join them. After all, Alexandru Tepes was loyal to the Dark Lord and was merely looking after Madam Lestrange. No harm in that, yes?

On the entire twisting, turning journey, Loki brooded. He could tell that Harry and the goblin were riding in the cart with them, and he sorely wished to yank that cloak off of them and tear them to pieces with his cutting words. How foolish, how stupid, how utterly...Gryffindor! If Sirius was to be believed. Yes, this escapade was just the sort of thing Sirius would have enjoyed.

Loki sank into the uncomfortable seat and glared at the empty space where he was sure Harry was hiding.

* * *

Loki was glaring at him, even though Harry convinced himself that there was no way the man could see him. His sight didn't seem that good even when there was no invisibility cloak between them.

Harry wasn't surprised that he was so mad. After all, their previous plans had been meticulously plotted and penned by the man for weeks. Frankly, that was the reason Ron was so suspicious. It was too easy, too perfect that a stranger would just fall into their lap and solve all their problems for them! And though they certainly liked Loki, neither Hermione nor Ron trusted the man enough to take him along on a Gringotts heist, most especially when he was so against their planned doublecross against Griphook.

The goblin was proving to be somewhat helpful. He had been the one to tell Harry that the Death Eater's name had been Travers. And he was the one who, after a sharp bend in the track saw the cascade of water ahead and fearfully whispered, "No!"

Harry felt the water pass over him and the cloak, but it lasted only a moment. He looked forward to see that Hermione and Ron were both still dry, some kind of magic preventing the water from hitting them.

"Such poor construction," Loki said, "that would place a track directly under a waterfall." He waved a hand to dry himself and Bogrod. Turning to Hermione, who was wearing Bellatrix's face most unconvincingly at the moment, he added, "I trust you and our friend are alright? It is not befitting for a Lestrange to be debased in such a way."

"Ah, yes, Tepes. Most unbefitting," she agreed, straightening out her expression.

"That was the Thief's Downfall," Griphook whispered to Harry. "It would have detected and washed away all enchantments. Then we would have hurtled down all the way to our deaths."

If that was so, then they all owed Loki their lives. It wasn't a new feeling, to owe Loki. The ride continued its twisting down, down into the lower caves of Gringotts. But then, they came across a fearsome sight that he had expected but never got around to properly imagining. A dragon. It was of enormous size, but its limbs were thin, with its hind legs shackled to the rough and rocky ground.

Harry watched as Loki's attention left him and went to the dragon whose scales were strangely pale. The man's expression was inscrutable, but Harry could tell that there was something going on in his mind.

A roar filled the chamber, but before it could echo back, Bogrod the goblin had the clankers doing as they were named. He had one clanker in his left hand and the whole bag in the other. While he shook one vigorously, he handed Ron the sack, indicating for him to help.

The sound of the raucous instruments bounced off the walls and filled Harry's ears. Ron had a clanker in each hand, adding to the noise. Loki however, was ignoring the bag and was instead staring at the trembling dragon who let out a half-hearted rumble before retreating. Bellatrix's mouth was turned into a firm frown as her eyes watched the dragon shrink away. As they approached, Harry could see the dragon by their light and was dismayed to see blind milky eyes and the many long scars decorating its face. There was no doubt in his mind that the dragon expected swift, painful slashes when faced with the terrible noise.

Harry's anger at the dragon's harsh treatment didn't leave him, but took a subordinate place in his thoughts when he saw Loki's reaction to it. Though he had once been staring blankly at the creature, the man was now almost snarling at the sight. Loki's brow was furrowed and his nose flared. There was such wrath, something Harry would have never expected from the well-tempered man.

He wondered how well he really knew Loki.

Soon, once they were quite deeply in the chamber, Bogrod alighted from the cart and approached a large wooden door. He sent one last look at Loki and Hermione before putting his wrinkled palm against the dark wood. It vanished to showcase a vast room filled with all sorts of glittering treasures. They were barely inside when Harry heard Loki's voice.

"Close the door, and cease with that infernal cacophony," Loki instructed Bogrod with a practiced sneer. The vault's door reappeared without a sound, leaving them in complete darkness. Harry worried; would they be stuck?

Then, Loki's voice in the darkness. "What do these items look like?" A pause. "Mr. Potter, you may remove your cloak. The goblin will notice nothing." They really hadn't ever told Loki about the goblet or of the other unknown horcrux, but now was not the time to keep that secret.

Harry gave a wary look at Bogrod's rough location and pulled the cloak off. "A goblet. With a badger on it. Or anything with Ravenclaw's crest. It would have an eagle on it." He cast a quick "Lumos!" so that he could see again. Bogrod was standing near the door, a bored look upon his face, as if Harry hadn't just appeared from thin air. He looked like someone who had been imperius'ed. Griphook dismounted and looked carefully at the gold around them. He seemed especially interested in the coins around Hermione.

"I don't think they've noticed us, but search quickly anyway," Harry said, taking quick stock of the room's contents.

"Lumos!" he heard in Ron's voice. Harry looked over to Hermione, wondering why she wasn't lighting her wand as well. She had a short wooden wand in hand. In any case, it wasn't Bellatrix's, and might not have been a wand at all. She gave it a wave and said a small but confident, "Lumos."

A sickly blue light hovered at the end of her wand, surprising them all. "Are you really a wandmaker?" Hermione asked Loki, already starting to look around at the golden objects in the vault.

"I would not risk our lives on my wand-making abilities," Loki answered with a shadowed smile. "That is Travers'." On anyone else's face, that smile would have been a smirk.

"I didn't even notice the switch that time," she said appreciatively. Harry was properly impressed as well.

Loki then put a finger to his bottom lip in thought. "Though, I can't imagine we have much time here. Travers is bound to notice that his wand is a mere stick."

"WHAT!" Ron shouted. Harry was thinking the same thing.

"Okay, search, fast!" he told them all.

"Wait!" Griphook commanded, holding their attention.

Hermione put a hand on her hip. "What now?" It was somewhat strange, seeing Bellatrix so impatient but not murderous.

"There are curses here. Anyone but the rightful owner will cause the gold to multiply and burn. Look," he said, turning to pick up a galleon. As soon as his little goblin fingers touched it, the gold piece burst into ten more red hot galleons.

"Oh, how fun," Loki said dryly. He walked deeper into the vault, careful not to touch anything, even with his clothing. Harry was glad that Loki was wearing some sensible clothing for jumping into cursed vaults; once, the man had shown up with a green cape on his shoulders and acted like it was normal.

Harry, for his part, walked around the golden artefacts strewn everywhere. He cast his gaze around the huge room, losing hope of finding the cup or anything with Ravenclaw's crest on it, when touching a thing would bury them in hot, burning gold.

"Accio horcrux!" Hermione finally tried.

"Won't work," both Loki and Griphook said at the same time.

Harry didn't look at them, though he imagined that they probably shared a look. Far from him, on a lonely shelf on the left side, his eyes caught sight of a cup. It was small, but it was shining, and Harry's heart started beating faster, and there was a jolt within him.

That was it. He just knew it.

"Found it!" he called out. "But it's up there. What about a levitating charm?"

"And how do you intend to bring it here? With your tiny mortal hands?" Loki mocked him. Mortal? That was a weird way to put it.

Harry thought for a second. "Hermione, hand me the sword? And I think a good levicorpus could get me up there..." In a second, he was dangling by his ankle up in the air, and had his right hand firmly gripped around the sword's handle.

He gave directions for Hermione, who floated him nearer and nearer to the cup. It did not feel as if they were pressed for time, so she was going about this carefully so as not to knock into anything. Finally, he was within reach of the goblet. It was a small repousse work with a badger design hammered out on it. He nudged the goblet with the sword, almost knocking it off its platform, before getting the tip of the sword through one of the handles. He slid the cup down until it was dangling near the hilt.

"Got it!"

Suddenly, he could hear some commotion at the sealed door. Bogrod looked surprised at all the noise, and it seemed he was about to wake from his stupor and open the vault to see what the matter was.

Figuring they had run out of time, Harry disengaged the spell with a quick, "Libericorpus!" and slid down the treasures as they multiplied beneath him. Despite his effort to keep a firm hold on the sword, it was forced out of his hand by the tumbling gold. The noise became louder as the door disappeared and was replaced with the sight of a hundred goblin heads and a hundred blazing torches.

"Let's go, mate!" Ron shouted, pulling Hermione back toward the door with him.

But he had lost track of the sword and the goblet! Harry swung his head this way and that, looking for them.

"I have both," Loki said, and indeed they were in his hand. Harry wasn't sure how Loki had gotten both artefacts, but he wasn't complaining. Loki pulled him up and they both sprinted to the opening of the vault where a congregation of angry goblins was forming.

Griphook, Harry saw, had joined the crowd in yelling and threatening them. At least they still had the sword. The goblins would soon be upon them, and they would be trapped if they didn't find a way out. They did not run far before they realized that, though there was a horde of goblins behind them, there was still a fire-breathing dragon before them.

They halted in their escape, but Loki merely looked thoughtfully up at the dragon. "Tell me, do you ride dragons in this realm?" Loki asked, as if he were having a conversation over Earl Grey. Realm?

"What?!" Ron shouted.

"Ah. Then this will be a new experience for you."

It seemed Hermione had the same idea, as she jumped onto the dragon's back before Loki could fully voice his idea. The dragon didn't seem to fight once Loki put a hand on its rough scales. Hermione pulled up both Harry and Ron and started to destroy the chains keeping the dragon grounded. Loki leapt onto the dragon as well, but as soon as he did, he pulled the goblet from the sword and tossed the blade to one of the goblins in the crowd.

"There is your reward, Griphook! We could not have done this without you!" Loki yelled so that everyone could hear his words.

Harry cursed to himself. Loki had just given away Gryffindor's sword, their only way of destroying horcruxes! As he was thinking this, he noticed how the goblins abandoned the rush for them and instead swarmed around Griphook as he looked at his fellow goblins in abject fear.

"We needed that," Harry said grimly, not yet taking his eyes away from the sight of the goblins' violence.

"You merely think you need that. There are other ways."

With that, the dragon took off, smashing its way through Gringotts. Harry wasn't sure if he imagined it, but it seemed that the dragon was wearing a self-satisfied smirk on its grisly face.

They rode the weary dragon until the cityscape became grass and field. The dragon soared so steadily that when Harry awoke from the nap he didn't anticipate having, they had alighted on the shore of a wide lake. It seemed that Loki was whispering to it or calming it somehow, so that the ride was much smoother than it would have been otherwise. They had set out before dawn, and now it seemed that the sun was starting to dip; no wonder he had fallen asleep, if the day had really been so long. As he rolled onto the grass, Harry would have kissed the ground, had he the energy to do so. He was still exhausted and completely out of the adrenaline that had pushed them to release the dragon in the first place.

"This whole venture was singularly idiotic," Loki finally admonished him, now that he no longer had to soothe the dragon. That was a useful talent. Loki, the Dragon Whisperer.

"Yeah, but everything has worked out," Harry challenged him, wearing a sloppy grin. He knew Loki worried about him, but it was high time that the man realized that Harry could take care of himself. Taking stock of himself and his friends, he could see that they had come out of the affair mostly unscathed. Dirty and tired, but safe and whole. Frowning, Harry spotted a rather large cut on Loki's hand. Harry didn't remember Loki getting injured at all. When had that happened?

Loki pulled the hand out of sight, and instead of agreeing with Harry's assessment, the man simply smiled. It wasn't his usual smile, though. The corners of his mouth were turned up more than usual, and his brow was creased. His eyes sparkled as he said, "Now, has it?"

And with that, he disappeared.

"What? What was that all about?" Ron asked, looking at the empty space.

Harry shrugged. Loki was one to disapparate at his own convenience, so he assumed the man would rejoin them at some point. Usually he would give an explanation, but whatever. He was probably just going to report to SHIELD or something. More and more, Harry was second-guessing himself in trusting Loki. He looked to Hermione, and then to the supplies he had. "Well, let's figure out a way to destroy the goblet," he said, holding his hand out to Hermione.

"What?" she asked blankly.

"Well, don't you have it?" Harry asked, somewhat impatient.

"No! I thought you did!" she exclaimed.

Ron gulped and locked eyes with Harry. "Loki."

* * *

As always, thanks for reviewing!


	16. Shifting Alliances

**Chapter 16: Shifting Alliances**

Fury had quite the mouth on him. If was F— this, motherf-ing that, up and down the helicarrier. Everyone was used to it, but it didn't mean that it was pleasant. Bruce especially was uncomfortable with the constant swearing, since it hadn't ceased since Loki disappeared ten and a half hours ago.

Just as they were getting answers, too.

For one, they had discovered that the director of STRIKE was guilty of joining the bad guy's side. The director. That was one reason for Fury's unending expletives.

Secondly…Bruce had never stopped to wonder at Loki's motives during the whole 'take-over-the-world' spiel. He had assumed (like everyone else) that Loki was just one of your run-of-the-mill egoists who thought the world would be better off under his dictatorial rule. He could work with the man, and he could enjoy working with him, even if he didn't like Loki's ideals. The god's answers to Tony's questions, though, implied there was something more going on. He could tell that Hawkeye didn't want to consider the possibility, but Tony, for all of his aggressive questioning, seemed to be rethinking his opinion of the god.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked his friend once they were sequestered in the lab. They were far from the radios and the hubbub surrounding the control room. It was cool and peaceful here.

"Do what?" Tony asked, looking down at the chaos through the windows. IT guys and pilots and all sorts of employees of SHIELD were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Seriously, it had been going on for almost eleven hours. Those who weren't panicking about this turn of events were mourning their motionless toys that Loki had made. Apparently without him to power the little metal things, the planes wouldn't fly and the metal army men wouldn't shoot each other and play dead.

Bruce tinkered with some of the machinery and slid his gaze over to Tony. "You provoked him. Again. Were you looking for something?"

Most people on the bridge thought that Tony was just being his usual asshole self, but Bruce knew him better than that. This was just like the little shocker experiment, except this had been psychological. Bruce could tell that for Tony, Loki's unpredicted reaction was a mystery that needed to be solved.

"Maybe," Tony replied noncommittally. He looked up at the bland ceiling of the lab. "Did he seem weirdly genuine when he was talking about the Potter kid? Maybe it's just me. I dunno. I almost wish he was Loki's kid. Parental responsibility usually makes people, ya know, responsible."

"You almost wish?"

Tony mocked a shiver. "Yeah. But I'm not cruel. Never sentence anyone to having that psychopath for a father." His expression softened the slightest bit and he shrugged. "Then again, he did seem pretty darned concerned when Jumong announced their disappearance."

Bruce found himself smiling. "Jumong?"

Tony dismissed it with a jerky wave. "Korean guy, an archer. Pepper's been watching a historical show about him. But you're right. Way too esoteric."

Bruce laughed anyway.

They continued with their own projects in agreeable silence before Tony spoke up again. "There's something more to that guy. No idea what it is, but it's bugging me. He's been too complacent-"

"Too helpful?" Bruce asked with a frown. Steve had expressed the same concern earlier, noting how it wasn't in Loki's nature to be so obliging.

"Naw, just too peaceful. It doesn't look as if he's been plotting. He's been as invested in creating the radio, and then those other gizmos, as you are, and he doesn't have any of that take-over-the-world vibe. And hey, does he still smell like a bag of cats?"

Bruce had to admit, "No, he doesn't." He felt kind of guilty for enjoying his time with the god. Although at the beginning, working with the embodiment of chaos made him nervous, he eventually grew to appreciate his talents. And from the few conversations he'd had with the god, it seemed Bruce was the first to do so and tell him. He still remembered how Loki would beam when Bruce acknowledged the god's clever solutions, especially when they had finally finished the machine that would counter anti-muggle force fields.

"See? Something's going on, and I can't tell if it was going on _back then_ and it's gone now, or if it's the other way around."

"He still smelled um…funny anyway," Bruce grudgingly added. "Not crazy, just...I don't know. Obsessed?"

Tony shrugged and put down whatever he was working on. Bruce looked over from his own almost-finished modified Geiger counter (which would hopefully be sensitive to a gamma decay signature Loki had once told him was very important) to see that Tony had just been stacking legos and building multi-colored robots. He was about to make a jesting comment on it when a loud noise struck his ears.

"All hands on deck!" some kind of public loudspeaker blared. Bruce didn't know they even had those. Sharing a brief look with Tony—apparently he thought it was ridiculous too—he rushed down to the main floor.

"What's going on?" someone asked. It seemed Steve had just made his way down as well.

It was Clint's voice projected through the speakers so that they could all hear. "Our contact Luna Lovegood just got word that Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army are preparing for battle at Hogwarts. Also..." here, he paused, and then added, "Loki betrayed them."

"But the vows!" Thor argued. "He cannot bring harm to Midgard, without suffering death!" Bruce had to feel bad for Thor. Loki barely spoke to him during his time on the helicarrier, but even the slightest nod of acknowledgement from the taciturn god would make Thor beam. As things were now, Thor was probably feeling the betrayal more strongly than anyone else.

"Well fancy that, the god of trickery and lies _lying_," Fury sarcastically said with a disappointed look aimed at Thor. "And now Potter's allies probably think we'll betray them too. Was this his plan, to pit us against them?"

Agent Romanoff was frowning when she argued, "If it was, it's pretty repetitive. It's what he tried last time by releasing the Hulk. And anyway, the thaumaturges could tell that there was animosity between Loki and Agent Barton. I think sincerity will work best here."

Taking her words into consideration, Fury barked, "Agent Barton, how have the other thaumaturges been reacting to your continued presence there?"

"Not negatively, sir. Actually, they seem to have warmed up to me after this news. Agent Romanoff was right."

Fury nodded. "At least something is working out. Barton, I want you to ask them what the bad guys will be using and how best to counter their attacks. I'm assuming they won't use guns."

"Will do, sir. Anything else?"

"Yeah..." Fury looked over the Avengers, his emotionless eye lingering over Thor. "Tell them that we'll be responsible for Loki, and that when it comes down to it, we will dispose of him ourselves."

* * *

_One Hour Earlier..._

A vision. Harry reeled at the anger he felt from Voldemort. The madman was on his way to Hogwarts to see if one of his horcruxes was safe, and now they knew the location of the last horcrux.

"To Hogwarts," Harry told his friends. Loki took the goblet with him, but he could be doing all sorts of things with it. After all, he knew what the goblet was, what a horcrux was. Although Loki had insisted on giving the sword back, he had been properly aghast at the concept of a horcrux. Harry only had that to cling to, as he worried about where Loki went and why he left.

"How are we supposed to get in?" Ron asked. He recast his Transylvanian disguise.

Hermione sighed. "It will have to be through Hogsmeade. Any chance the secret tunnels are still secret?"

Harry shrugged. "Snape knows about the shrieking shack, but they might not know about the one in Honeydukes."

"Before that, maybe we can stop at the Three Broomsticks and get an idea of Hogwarts condition from Rosmerta," Hermione suggested.

"Okay then. It's still light out. Hermione and I will go under the cloak. Ron, we'll follow you."

Ron nodded gravely. They knew that venturing into Hogsmeade would not only be dangerous, but incredibly stupid. Harry wondered what Loki would be thinking now about their decision to enter Hogsmeade. Especially when there might be patrols or Death Eaters on the lookout. With this great worry hanging over them, it was something of a miracle when they landed, in clear daylight, and no one was the wiser for it.

There were few Death Eaters here and there, but they looked mostly bored and listless. The trio passed the Three Broomsticks, but it seemed like the entire place was populated by Death Eaters. Ron acted as if he had business deeper in the little village and made his way to the Hog's Head Inn instead. It had served as the foundational meeting for Dumbledore's Army, and it was the only place now where Ron could hopefully get some answers. If anyone was there. If not, they would just have to risk going through Honeydukes.

There, the barman sent one look at Ron and whispered harshly, "Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!" Harry and Hermione had no time to be surprised as the man shepherded them to the second floor. They had a long conversation, Harry learning that not only was this Aberforth Dumbledore, but that he had sent Dobby, and he had been looking out for him all along.

And then, during that conversation, that was when the vision came to him. Harry reeled as he found himself overcome with anger and rage. He tried pulling away from the vision. Even since Dobby's death, he had been able to avoid the visions when he didn't want to have them. And yet...as Harry was hurled into Voldemort's mind, he saw a familiar face and let himself be taken into the vision:

Death to those mindless, drone-like goblins! How dare they endanger him, Lord Voldemort! After hearing from the goblins that Lestrange's vault had been compromised, he had fled immediately to Hogwarts to make sure that one of his horcruxes was safe. After seeing the diadem safe, he would go and check on his other horcruxes: the ring and the locket should still have been in their hiding places.

"I would have words with your master," said a cool voice with a touch of German. It was mature and solid. The timbre was of a smooth baritone and it tickled his ears to hear such a pleasant sound. As he had many things to do and worry about, a new fanatic was the least of his priorities. However, the man had such a curious bearing about him that Voldemort had to see why there was so much magic radiating from him...

"Let him approach," he commanded lightly before his Death Eaters could deny the man passage. Then, a wizard with sleek black hair stepped forward and bowed deeply. Yes, Voldemort was already starting to like him. "Rise," he commanded. Upon standing straight, the man flaunted his full height, which was a whole two inches taller than himself. Voldemort held his shoulders higher and subtly pushed magic into his impromptu throne to get a better height advantage.

"What words would you have with me, foreigner?" He would give the strange man the opportunity to tell the truth before ransacking his mind to test it.

The man merely smiled a guileless smile and reached into his strange cloak. It was no wizard or muggle fashion he had ever seen, save from his few picture books as a child. His Death Eaters tensed in response to his action, but he did not seem to notice. From within the shadows, the man revealed a goblet that was very familiar.

"How?" he rasped, his eyes burning with an emotion he refused to call fear.

The smile on the man's face never wavered. "I accompanied the boy on his ill-fated endeavor and stole it from him at the last moment. I have been going by the name Alexandru Tepes, but I am truly a man from another realm who seeks the same ends as you." The slight German accent was gone and replaced by one that sounded impeccably English.

Voldemort leaned back in his chair and pet his dear snake as she eyed the strange man. "Why should I believe you?"

"I would give you my word."

"Your word is worth as much to me as the life of a mudblood," Voldemort declared. Several of his followers snickered. "I shall see for myself."

With that and no other warning, he gazed deeply into the man's impossibly green eyes and plunged into the man's mind, searching first for the information about the goblet. He watched memory after memory of the man working with the brats to take down Gringotts. It was just Potter, his two sidekicks, and the goblin traitor. He saw them planning, and saw this man suggesting to give up the legendary sword of Gryffindor to the filthy goblin. Ah, motive. Potter would see it as a desire not to doublecross the creature, when in truth it was because this man would not see the goblet destroyed. How very clever.

Well, certainly he told the truth about Hufflepuff's goblet. What about his purpose? Where was he from? Why did he wish to support Voldemort?

The answers to these questions were more complex and threw him into several different memories. In the very earliest, he could see a city made of warm light and glistening gold. Asgard, the man's mind told him with a fond sigh. Within the city was a whole race of thugs and violent beasts of men. Ah, this Tepes' own brother was one of them.

_"Come, Brother, and put your abilities to the test!"_ encouraged the perfect blond child.

A younger version of the man before him looked up from his book and eyed their doings with thinly veiled longing. Why would he want to join them in these stupid shows of power? After a prolonged moment of thought, the dark-haired boy placed his book on the soft grass and stood. He made his way down to the other boy and flickered. In the same moment, the boy appeared behind the blond and poked him with the boy's own sword.

_"I have you!"_ rejoiced the child. Illusions and apparating at such a young age. Impressive, Voldemort thought.

_"Please, brother, fight like a man. Ruses and cheating are women's hobbies!"_ That memory swirled away, consumed by others. Rage boiled within him as he saw fleeting memory after memory of this man's power belittled and scolded.

_"Some do battle, others just do tricks."_

Anger built upon anger, and he could see the development of wrath in the man before him. _"Know your place, brother."_ He saw the man disown and kill his own frost giant father, and Voldemort felt his rush of satisfaction, the same he felt when he himself had killed Tom Riddle Sr._ "And your death came by the Son of Odin."_ And in the end, when this man—no, this front giant, was trying to preserve his world, he was told that he was wrong. In the memory, there was a strong desire to be seen as someone worth respect, and so much more desire to be loved as his brother was loved. This creature was weak, wishing for something as meager as love. And denied the approval of the man he chose to be his father, he let go.

The memories of falling were scattered and troublesome, but they only lasted a moment before he saw the torture and the hard fomentation of this frost giant's hatred. And yet...there were layers over the creature's mind in these memories. Layers that were imposed upon him.

Ah, then! Desire to rule and to accumulate power! Voldemort could respect that. This beast was a terror, but one who used a wholly different kind of magic. Despite its earlier weakness, he could see potential in this creature to be one of his greatest minions. It was intelligent, unlike many of his Death Eaters, but enjoyed chaos and destruction, unlike his current right-hand man, Severus.

He continued sifting through the memories chronologically, reaching the events of a few months ago. He cast an amused eye over the memory of himself confronting Gregorovitch; apparently even then, this creature was curious about him. Even after being defeated by those ridiculous muggles, there was one last layer remaining on the frost giant's mind, and it hovered over every action, every _thought_ since then. All the other blue layers had retreated, it seemed willfully, but this one remained fastened there. It was so subtle and quiet that Voldemort wondered if the frost giant even knew it was still there. Then, the creature was interacting with Harry Potter at Malfoy Manor. There was a magical blanket covering those memories and emotions—_must find Harry, I need to find Harry Potter_. Voldemort reached in and tugged at it, only for the beast to yank himself back as if shocked by electricity.

The connection broke.

But just Voldemort's connection to the frost giant.

"Someone has fiddled with your mind," Voldemort told him needlessly. The frost giant knew that he had been controlled by the blue. Did he know that he was still under its spell?

"What magic is this, that allows you to see my innermost thoughts?" he instead asked quietly. No doubt, he was feeling wary of those who delved into his mind. Voldemort did not begrudge him that unease.

"It is of no consequence to you. I believe you, and I would have you standing by me as I issue the world into a new era. However, there is the matter of your...mind."

"That influence is no longer upon me," the monster who called himself Tepes asserted.

How little he knew. "You say that, and yet I see blue coating your mind as we speak. You still wish to know where Harry Potter is."

"I tell you, they have no hold over me! I am no one's puppet!"

"You will thank me, dear Alexandru," Voldemort said as he approached the creature. The frost giant held himself with such high regard, and yet the thought that he might still be under another's control was tearing him apart. Well, best get it over with, then. Cognitive recalibration might be the ticket. Either that, or the tedious process of pulling out the blue threads one by one. Recalibration was quicker and easier, he thought. And it would serve as punishment for interfering at Malfoy Manor.

Voldemort pointed the Elder Wand at the frost giant. "_Crucio!_"

Pain assaulted him as Harry pulled back from the vision. "Loki went to You-Know-You!" Harry exclaimed, choking on his despair. "And he handed over the goblet." And he was being tortured, and Loki was surely in so much pain...

Ever since the man had disappeared with the artifact, Harry held the weak hope that Loki had merely taken it to be destroyed since they no longer had the sword. They had been played. Were his words about Sirius, were they all lies? Harry was so certain that Loki had been looking out for him, but it all culminated into this one grand betrayal.

"I knew we couldn't trust him," Ron said viciously.

"Trust who?" asked their surly companion.

"Loki," Harry finally said, answering the man's question. "We trusted him-God, he's not even human! But now he's betrayed us. And he's here, at Hogwarts." Harry shuddered; Voldemort looking into Loki's mind, and seeing centuries of emotional abuse, the little snippets that Loki had only mentioned in passing. Now, all of their conversation took on a new light and it made Harry sick. He saw so much, and yet he could tell that Loki had cared for him. It made his betrayal only more incomprehensible.

The gruff man snorted. "More reason for you to get out of here. Let me tell you, if my brother cared for you at all, he'd have told you to hide yourself away," he sneered, "not go on this merry chase around the English countryside."

It was a difficult thing, convincing Aberforth that they needed to get into Hogwarts. He caved eventually, and gestured to a young lady in a portrait. She was very pretty with long wavy blonde hair. She nodded with a smile and walked away down a long tunnel until they could see nothing left of her.

"Erm, so then, is that it? Shouldn't we figure out how we'll get into Hogwarts?" asked Ron.

"Patience!" Aberforth said, waving Ron's concern away. He was watching the portrait intently, and surely enough, after a few minutes, the woman was walking toward them with another in tow. It was dark and shadowed, but as the light caught the portrait, they were greeted by a friendly shout and the rush of Neville Longbottom hugging them about their necks.

"I knew you'd return! I knew it!" he exclaimed, hardly waiting for his friends to get ahold of their bearings.

"Neville!" Hermione said with such great relief that she hugged him and wouldn't let go. "What's happened to you?" His face was swollen mess of yellow-purple bruises and gouges, and his hair was a mop of unkempt greasiness.

Neville grinned at them. "This is nothing. Seamus is worse, you'll see. Shall we get going then? Oh Ab," he said, turning to Aberforth, "there might be a couple more people on the way."

"Couple more? Longbottom, it's almost dark and there's a curfew and Caterwauling Charm on the whole village!"

Harry supposed they were lucky to have gotten there before nightfall, because they would have walked straight into a trap.

Neville waved his concerns away. "I know, that's why they'll be Apparating directly into the bar. Just send them down the passage when they get here, will you? Thanks a lot."

Suddenly, there was a buzzing in the air. Neville stopped in the middle of his energized speech and looked down at the stairs.

"People at the door," the old man whispered. "Get that thing back on."

Harry and the others wasted no time in hiding under the cloak as Aberforth stalked toward the staircase. Although there wasn't enough space for the three of them, the furniture was big enough to hide their legs from anyone walking up to the second floor. Unfortunately, from the position he found himself in, Harry couldn't see the doorway.

"Show yourself!" Aberforth demanded, his wand out.

"I am showing myself," said a very familiar, very pleasant voice. It was light and airy, sweet and carefree.

"Luna!" Neville whispered dazedly to them, though the other three had already identified the voice.

"Did you come alone?" asked the old man.

There were more footsteps, and it was obvious that she hadn't.

"Not quite," said a woman whom Harry did not recognize, "but we're on your side. Trust me. Black Widow."

Then, a voice that Harry recognized but wasn't too happy to hear: "It's in our best interests to take down this Dark Lord Thingy. That, and we need to apprehend that double-crossing bastard. You can all call me Hawkeye." Agent Barton. Harry remembered that although the two worked together, and although Barton had followed Loki's direction during the escape from Malfoy Manor, there was little affection there. Usually, there was outright hostility coming from special agent Barton when it came to Loki. Harry supposed there might have been reason for it.

"The Geiger counter was saying he was here, but this thing must be mistaken. It doesn't seem to be working at all now," said another person immediately to Harry's right. Harry didn't recognize him either. So many strangers!

"Oh, he's probably just under his cloak," Luna said without any concern whatsoever.

"Cloak?"

"Why, yes! Harry has a most marvelous cloak of invisibility that makes him impossible to see-"

"Is this another one of those wrackspurt things?" asked the woman half-heartedly.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Hermione finally said, throwing the cloak off of them. As he stood up from his crouched position, Harry realized that Luna hadn't come with just three muggles. No, there were quite a few more.

All in all, there were a tall blond man, another very tall blond man but with an effing cape-was it the man in Loki's memories?-a robot, the guy who held the so-called 'counter,' and the two agents. Frankly, Harry had never seen such a mismatched group of people.

"Merlin's pants," Ron said, looking at the motley bunch of muggles. "I thought muggles had better fashion sense, Harry."

"Usually, they do," he said humorlessly. What were they doing here? Harry had a job to do, and they were only interfering! He turned to Agent Barton, because he was the only one of them he had ever met. "What do you think you're doing? First, one of you guys steals our goblet, and then you stalk us all the way here? How did you even find me?"

"That's a good question." Hermione interrupted him, looking directly at the man holding a weird beeping box. "Hogsmeade has charms against muggles. You shouldn't even be able to see this place."

The man waved the box and pointed it to Harry, when it let out a series of clicks. "Before Loki went awol, he was trying to develop this hybrid technology. I guess he never planned on me finishing it. We have some stuff back on the ship that lets us go through anti-muggle wards as you all call them, and this right here is tuned directly to Mr. Potter's magical signature."

Harry paled. Muggles had such technology? And_ anybody_ was able to track him? That was some serious invasion of privacy. "I think you Americans value your rights, yeah? So would you let me keep mine and not stalk me?"

"Sorry, but it's a matter of world security," Black Widow said, not sounding the least bit sorry. "You should be thankful. We're on your side."

Ron huffed. "Yeah, we thought that about Mr. Stickyfingers too," he said.

"Nice moniker," the robot said appreciatively, its voice sounding like someone speaking from inside a bucket.

"Thanks. Er, and who are you?"

The robot took a step back, as if he were bewildered. "What? Seriously? There's someone on this planet who doesn't know who I am? Maybe this'll help." Its hand went up to its face and...removed it. Instead of seeing wiring like Harry always thought robots would have, he saw a human face. It reminded him entirely too much of the Cybermen from one of Dudley's telly shows.

"Tony Stark!" squeaked Hermione. "I had heard, but I never imagined...what on earth are you doing here?"

The robot-man rolled his eyes. "Like we've been saying, we're here to stop the big bad from causing mayhem. We're heroes. It's kind of our thing."

* * *

So I took one set of my major's comprehensive exams, and I finished another exam today. I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, but this was really my first opportunity to really relax for longer than a hour. I see that in the meantime, this story has amassed a lot of followers. 974 followers! Wow! I don't expect all of you to review (though dang, that would be amazing), but I hope you've enjoyed the story so far that you'll give me some of your thoughts regarding the chapter. Does everyone still seem in character? Does everything make sense? Can you see everything from Harry's perspective and understand how betrayed he must feel? Thanks for reading!


	17. Truths

**Chapter 17: Truths**

Loki woke up slowly, feeling as if every nerve was being poked with red hot needles. His legs twitched the slightest bit, and his very eyes burned as he opened them. Darkness. But only the darkness of night, not the deep terrifying black of the void. Loki let out a long breath. It felt like an incredible weight had been lifted off of him.

So...there had been some leftover control on him?

How dare they! Loki clenched his fists, even as the sensation sent prickles of pain shooting up his arms. How could the Chitauri have possibly kept him under their hold, when he thought he had escaped through the green giant's pummeling? Yes, he had never been knocked unconscious by Dr. Banner, but he certainly remembered the relief of the blue slipping away from his mind. Loki clenched his fists harder in barely-controlled rage. How did he not notice that the warm feeling in his chest when he found Harry was only ever due to the gem reaffirming his actions? It rent his heart to think that every deed he had done was only for the Chitauri's ends. And yet...how wonderful it felt to hate the Chitauri. Now, he realized what had been missing after the invasion in New York. Now, he could loathe the Chitauri and curse their ends! How best to foil their plans? Loki closed his eyes again, thinking what the Chitauri wanted most, what the Other was seeking. Ah, well they wanted Potter alive for some strange reason. Kill Harry?

No pain. No sharp, constricting pain from the gem's pull. Moreover, there was no sadness or overwhelming feeling of despair. Was his affection for the boy purely from the Chitauri's influence? He felt so empty.

Loki put the disturbing thought in the back of his mind for him to stew upon when he had the motivation. In truth, Harry had never done anything against him, so he had no reason to destroy the boy except for the fact that the Chitauri wanted him safe for some unknowable reason. Disposing of Harry would do no one good except for Voldemort.

"The blue is gone, I trust?" asked the snake-man.

He had nearly forgotten about the noseless monstrosity. He needed to get back to himself, figure out what his new course of action was and if he even needed a new course of action. Protecting Harry was not on the forefront of his mind.

"Yes. I owe you much for freeing my mind," he responded with a clipped tone. Although the madman's method completely freed him from the Chitauri's pull, Loki thought there must have been a better way to cognitively recalibrate him. His fingers were still a bit twitchy. A few of the man's minions muttered amongst themselves about his disrespect, but he would never call the man his master. No one was master to Loki, not anymore.

"You have given me a gift—the goblet—and that is worth more than the mere freedom of your mind," the snake-man said dismissively. Loki was quickly cementing his negative opinion of the annoying man. He might have once respected him for his ruthlessness, but belittling Loki was pure stupidity.

"If you say so."

"I do." The snake-man stood and circled Loki. He gestured for Loki to accompany him deeper into the trees. Once out of earshot of the man's underlings, he looked at Loki closely. "I have seen into your mind, frost giant," he hissed, "and I have found you worthy enough to do my bidding."

Loki was tempted to laugh in his face, but that would ruin the fun. "Why do you think I seek to do your bidding?" he asked instead. "Perhaps I merely want you to destroy my enemies. To destroy that boy whom I was cursed to find." The fact that no artificial feelings curled within him confirmed that the gem was well and truly gone. There was no warm affirmation in his chest that this was the correct course of action, only uncertainty and a void within his heart. Loki had no idea if this was what he truly wanted to do, but it was something to do before his own indecision could devour him.

"Then we are at least working toward the same end. Partners for now. Shall I continue to call you Tepes?" the man deferred.

He hadn't expected the dark lord to back down. "No. You may call me Loki," he said, giving him the grace of his true name. It would make the man trust him, at least. He was sure the snake-man would have seen traces of the name in his memory anyway.

"Ah, Loki. Loki No-one's-son," he taunted with a smirk.

"Loki shall suffice."

"I do believe you shall," the man said, giving him a onceover. "Now, I have seen that you are a serviceable strategist. Come, you must confer with one of my Death Eaters. He was a good enough double agent, but he has little charisma. Useless for the world I seek to build."

"You sound as if you are prepared to dispose of him," Loki said, completely nonchalant. What was it to him if this man killed his own men? It was only proof of the madman's idiocy if he thought killing a good strategist and double agent was to his advantage.

The man looked as if he were considering the notion. "Perhaps. His death maybe be necessary, but he will understand," he said, making Loki wonder why anyone would want to work for this madman. He still had tremors from that pain curse.

They made their way back to the company of his Death Eaters, where Voldemort summoned a man to Loki's side.

"I have need to check on other things. In the meantime, Loki, you may acquaint yourself with the one I mentioned earlier. Amycus, take him up to Severus. And keep an eye on Ravenclaw tower." With that, the Dark Lord nodded to an unimpressive Death Eater and teleported away. It was unfortunate that Loki could not see where the man had gone; part of his reason for joining was to figure out where the last few horcruxes were. Perhaps Ravenclaw tower, wherever that was?

With that a dead end, he was not sure where this left him. At least he had his freedom, and his plans hadn't backfired on him.

Loki was led into a large castle humming with magic. It was captivating in its stonecut greatness and symphonic with all the strains of spells woven into its harmony, more beautiful even than Asgard, for although Asgard was magnificent, it did not vibrate with magic in its very being as Hogwarts did. He memorized the long winding paths he took as he followed the appointed Death Eater up and up, past a gargoyle and into a fantastically decorated office.

"Oi, Snape. This here's a new friend of the Dark Lord. He thought you two ought to get to know each other," the Death Eater said.

A man sitting behind a large wooden desk dismissed him with a wave of his hand and turned to Loki. Once the door was closed, in a deep and slow drawl, he asked, "What have we here?"

Snape. Such a familiar name. He had heard it often, from Harry's complaints about the new Headmaster at Hogwarts to the magic-man's stories of childhood pranks. The magic-man. Loki took a moment to meditate on Sirius and the very real attachment he still had for the man. Although he could admit that he had some fondness of that mortal, did that extend to Harry? Loki wasn't entirely sure. Oh, right. Snape. This man was also the one who was entrusted to put the goblin sword into Lestrange's vault, wasn't he? And yet it conveniently ended up in the children's hands. Perhaps Voldemort was right to desire this man's death, if he knew about the treachery.

If Loki were completely honest, he would say that he saw a bit of himself in the dour man who was currently looking at him with a mix of suspicion and condescension. Except, Loki thought with an internal sneer, he had never done so much for an adolescent crush. Oh, he could put the pieces together: Snape hanging out too often with the muggleborn woman who was to be the mother of Harry Potter. There must have been some residual warmth for the boy unless he blamed Harry for his mother's death. It would certainly explain how the children had gotten the sword in the first place. Though this man's part in the Headmaster's death...that was difficult to explain away.

"An ally," Loki responded tersely. He looked at the man, noting every crease, every emotion on the man's face. He appeared very tired.

"Did our Lord send you to me for a purpose?" he asked impatiently, arranging his voluminous robes around himself like a black cocoon. Loki had not planned out this far. Meeting this man was never part of his overreaching plans. Was he truly an enemy? Did he have any love left for the son of the woman he used to cherish?

"Excuse me, Severus, but who is your new friend?" asked an old voice.

The man's eyebrow twitched. "Now is not the time for your meddling, you old coot." Despite the harsh words, there was affection there. Perhaps Loki's suspicions were correct. This man was very much like himself after all, and playing the traitor was a convenient way to infiltrate the enemy.

"Ah, Professor Dumbledore," Loki addressed him, bowing shortly. The man's long name was scribbled at the bottom of his portrait near the gnarled hands holding a wand with several knots on it—a wand he had seen pointed at himself not long ago. The old man inclined his head and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. It was the same picture that was on the cover of that book in the pink room a few months ago, the book that had stolen Harry's attention so. "You may call me Loki."

At Loki's deference to the old man, Snape looked at him with renewed consideration. "You trust him, Albus?" Snape asked, looking warily at Loki.

"I trust him enough. Tell us, Loki, why you have come here."

He could make a choice right now. Harry's side or Voldemort's. The latter was incredibly strong and far more likely to win if the two went head-to-head. However, the second was not as annoying and belittling. It would amuse Loki quite a bit if he could foil the arrogant madman's machinations. His decision made, Loki moved his gaze to land solely on Severus Snape. "The Dark Lord intends to kill you," he said with little preamble. He wondered how the man would respond.

Instead of anger, instead of betrayed shock, the man sat down heavily in his chair and said with acceptance, "Then I cannot keep these to myself. Although Potter is here, I doubt I will have the chance to convey them to the boy." He kneaded his temple and looked to the portrait. "What would you have me do now, Albus?"

"Give them to our new friend."

Them? More horcruxes perhaps for him to destroy? His blood was potent enough to destroy the goblet without leaving it a pile of melted gold. If Voldemort ever found out, then Loki's days of playing both sides were finished. He supposed it was a good thing he had now made his decision.

"You think him trustworthy?" Snape asked again, something straining his voice. "If the Dark Lord gets his hands on these—"

"He shall not," Loki interrupted. "My reasons are not so noble as yours, but like you, I wish to protect the boy." Loki swallowed. It wasn't a complete lie. For now, he didn't mind keeping Harry safe. Maybe as a favor to Sirius. "If you have the same magic that the Dark Lord possesses, I will allow you into my mind." Loki knew the man had this power, just as he had known Voldemort had it. Harry revealed more than he thought while they were cooped up in Shell Cottage.

Snape considered him with a dark eye. "You will let me see your motivations for myself?"

As much as Loki did not want someone rifling through his mind again, he knew it was necessary. Yet another freedom that was stripped from him. Relenting, Loki sighed. "I must tell you now that I have ways to conceal certain thoughts and memories. I will show you everything, but it will be up to you whether to trust that it is so." Well, he would show the man everything that was important. His recent thoughts about Harry and this entire war were not for this man's eyes. No, Loki still had to make a decision on it.

"Close no door to me, and you will feel nothing."

As if Loki would ever let anyone so intimately into himself.

He could feel the man's gentle touch on his mind, and he could sense the man's reactions. Loki let the man see his attempt at genocide and the tortures of the Chitauri. And the murder of Sirius Black. As Snape slithered through the memories of Stuttgart, Loki was starting to wonder if the man could ever trust him. If Loki had deduced his character correctly, then showing him moments of incredibly bad decisions followed by reconciliation and repentance would win him over.

Oh, this was too easy. Loki slipped in the memory of his encounter with Voldemort and his torture under the pain curse. It made the man so sympathetic.

Snape came back to himself and crossed his arms. "Why did those creatures want you to keep an eye on the Potter boy?"

Ah yes, that was a very good question. "I know not why," Loki answered truthfully with a shrug. "They answer to the Other, who in turn answers to- to Thanos." He said it. He had said the name. Loki braced himself for the pain, for the sudden onslaught of Chitauri, but nothing came. The name had no power over him anymore. With the break of the gem's control, it seemed he could give a name to that terrible being. Loki continued, "Thanos, who worships the very being of death and yearns to kill. He considers those kills as his presents to Death."

"Ahem! Well then," Dumbledore interrupted by clearing his throat loudly, "let us address one problem at a time."

"You know something," Snape readily accused him. Apparently the old man was accustomed to keeping secrets from his allies.

"Tis a mere theory of little consequence," the old man said sternly, "and with just as little bearing on the concerns we have now."

Loki lowered himself into one of the leather seats. Having people in one's mind was not a pasttime Loki would suggest for anyone. "Do your suspicions pose a threat to young Harry?" As much as these two claimed to have the boy's safety in mind, Loki could see that the old man was a plotter. Much like Odin. If Loki were still under compulsion to protect Harry, then he would have demanded an answer from the old man right there and then. As things were at the moment, he knew it could be a concern for a later time.

"Not at the moment," Dumbledore evaded the question. "However, it is of utmost importance that Harry be told...certain truths before this battle truly breaks out."

Instructions. From a general to his greatest soldier. Making a decision, he confronted the old man. "I will deliver them if danger comes to Severus." He turned to the man and leaned back in his chair. "Did you see all you wanted? Or did you want another go at my mind?" he asked bitterly.

"I have had enough angst to last me three lifetimes, and I do not need to witness more of yours," he scoffed.

"Your loss," Loki said with a broad smile. He found that genuine-looking smiles were more off-putting from him than smirks. As expected, the man turned away with a snort.

"Though, I do wonder," he started, sliding a look toward Loki, "how you managed to convince the Dark Lord of your loyalty."

It was quite a feat, Loki admitted. He was proud of himself. "Your Lord is arrogant," he said with a blase shrug. "Once I showed him that I was not human, he thought I could not hide my memories. He thought that, because he could see my more painful memories, I had no talent for memory suppression." He'd had centuries of practice.

Snape smiled back at him, though his was certainly more of a smirk. "You've found his weakness as I did. Well then," he paused and put his wand to his temple. He closed his eyes, and slowly pulled his wand away. At the tip was a silvery fluid, neither liquid nor gas. The man conjured a vial, smoothly deposited the magic, and stoppered it. "Here is a copy of my memories. Mr. Potter must have them, and he will know what to do."

So not a horcrux. Loki took the vial and hid it away in one of his secret magical spaces. "How did you intend to give these to him if he considered you a traitor?" Loki was wondering this more for himself, to be honest. They were both pretending to be on Voldemort's side, and surely Harry had been betrayed too many times to trust anything they might say now.

"Because this war is coming to a head, I would have told him the entire truth," Snape said with a long, lingering look. It seemed the man understood Loki's concern. "He is a noble idiot and he trusts far too easily. He can perceive sincerity, but only when it is openly there."

Loki nodded, and would have asked more questions, if not for the sharp intake of breath from the man before him. One bony hand was clutching onto his other forearm and he barely suppressed a hiss of pain.

"I must attend to something." Snape pulled himself up and took three quick strides to the door.

He had but moments. Snape would be gone, and who knew when Loki would get another chance to speak with him? He made another decision, one that definitely put him against Voldemort if he hadn't been so far. Putting a hand on the man's shoulder, he said, "If your Lord summons you, do not go." If Harry wanted to survive, he would need as many people on his side as possible. Even SHIELD's support would not be enough.

Snape shook his head. "I must. As you've noticed, the Dark Lord's arrogance is his greatest weakness."

"And what, killing one of his underlings will make him overconfident?" Loki asked. He could tell this man was good, if flawed, and that he had done much for the self proclaimed 'good side.'

Snape threw open the door and started down the moving stairs at a quick pace. "It is beyond your knowledge. Suffice it to say that he thinks true ownership of something very powerful will pass to him only if he kills me."

There were so many possibilities floating through his head, so many new magical artifacts Loki had only recently discovered. It didn't sound like a horcrux. More memories? Perhaps it was that thing stolen from Gregorovitch? "A wand?" he asked himself. Ahead, Severus froze. Ah, then it was a wand. Loki smiled to himself. He had unraveled this particular mystery.

"The wand he holds now is the same in Dumbledore's portrait. You killed Dumbledore, so he thinks that by killing you..."

Severus continued his descent. "So you've figured it out," he called out, his voice echoing in the tower. "But it changes nothing."

Well, it changed something. For one, it meant that he could convince Voldemort to take another course of action. It would just take some reasoning and lies, two things Loki was quite familiar with.

* * *

The tunnel was long and quite narrow at some parts, so they walked mostly two by two. Hermione was busy having a rapid fire conversation with the two scientists: the man in the robot suit and the one with the clicking device. Ron and Neville were catching up with each other while the caped blond guy was occasionally asking questions about their world. The two agents were walking behind him, and the one in American colours was walking ahead of him. Harry wasn't sure how they came to be in that formation, and it made him uneasy.

What made him most uncomfortable, however, were the stories they told about Loki. The would-be conqueror, the madman, the psychopath out for revenge...it was nothing like the man he had admired back at the cottage. And this all made him feel like an idiot.

Quietly, so quietly that surely only Harry and he could hear, "What made you trust Loki?" Agent Barton finally asked.

Harry stiffened. In a voice barely louder than Barton's, Harry answered, "What made you trust him? You at least knew his reputation when you all broke him out of alien jail." Okay, so they didn't quite break him out, but they might as well have.

Barton laughed a short, bitter laugh. "Don't know if I ever really did. He's hella charismatic though. I could see why a kid like yourself would like him."

Harry took offense at being called a kid. "I'm an adult," he let the man know, since Harry didn't know when Americans were considered adults. Twenty-one? Isn't that when they were allowed to drink alcohol?

"Still too young to be caught up in a frickin' war," the man said with vitriol. If Harry didn't know better, he'd say the man was trying to be sympathetic.

After a few more moments of the quiet padding of feet, Harry relented. "He listened to me. He was helping us. And he told me he had been friends with my godfather."

At that, Agent Romanoff quickened her step to be directly to Harry's left. Had she heard their entire conversation? Fortunately for him, she was on the short side and he didn't have to crane his neck to look her suspiciously in the eye. She furrowed her brow and asked, "What did he say about him, about Black?"

She was curious about Sirius? Harry thought on the question and answered, "Well just that they were friends. After Sirius' Hogwarts years. I should've been suspicious then, since I didn't think Sirius had much of a chance to make close friends after Hogwarts."

"Yeah, with the blowing up non-magicals," Barton said tetchily. "Or did he just inflate them?"

"He was framed for that," Harry said, sadly accustomed to having to explain Sirius' innocence. "It was the other wizard who did all that, and framed Sirius for the murders. Which were actual murders. And that all happened maybe a year or two after graduating. Loki and Sirius couldn't have known each other." Harry lowered his voice and berated himself, "I should've known he was lying."

"Loki did know Sirius, though." Agent Romanoff contradicted him. She revealed little emotion.

"When would he? In Azkaban? While Sirius was on the run?" he asked sarcastically. What could she possibly know?

"After he fell through the Veil?" she suggested.

Harry stopped walking. "What?"

"Loki intimated that the Veil didn't kill Sirius Black," she revealed carefully. "However, we have no idea if he was lying."

"Then- then Sirius could be alive?" Harry didn't want to feel the hope that was currently overflowing within him.

Thankfully, Romanoff cut off that train of thought with a sharp, "No. He died from something else." So factual and emotionless. It was starting to bug him.

Harry thought she was just being cruel now. "Of what, then?"

Romanoff seemed to be debating something, and even Agent Barton seemed to know that something was up. Finally, she pulled Harry aside and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. The rest of their caravan continued walking, and Barton went with them, allowing them some privacy. The woman watched the others walk a few feet further before she look him in the eye.

"Loki killed him."

Stunned silence.

"Wh-what? How? When? Why didn't you tell me!" He demanded, rounding on Barton. Those ahead of them glanced back at the noise, but Barton stopped walking and waved the others onward.

He turned to Harry and threw a quick glance Romanoff's way. "I didn't know, honest. I didn't...listen, kid, you're not the first to be duped here. That guy up front with the hammer? That's Loki's brother. And Loki had no qualms about betraying him either. I'm sorry everything had to happen this way. I was starting to believe in the bastard too."

Harry tried to commiserate with the man, he really did, but he remembered the memories that Voldemort ransacked. He remembered seeing the golden boy praised by teachers and parents while the skinny brunet was tossed to the side for being a freak. He remembered seeing the blue haze cast over everything he did, and he remembered the desperation with which he had searched for Harry. Despite everything, he really thought Loki had cared, and it stung that yet another person had failed him. He shouldn't have been suprised, though. The Dursleys were supposed to love him, but they didn't. Sirius was supposed to be there for him, and he wasn't. And Loki? Loki had no obligation toward him. None whatsoever.

Harry gulped and took a step. Then another. He would keep going. He would not let this stop him. "I don't know how to feel," he quietly confessed to Agent Romanoff, as they continued down the tunnel.

She ruffled his hair, an action that Harry did not often experience. "Courage, Potter. You'll know what to do when the time comes. Of all the child soldiers I've seen, you're one of the most extraordinary," she said sadly. "I think you did make an impression on Loki, though. Before he left, he confessed to admiring you."

Why would he want the respect of that madman? As they walked, he eyed Barton. "Really, I trusted him because he was looking out for me," he said, answering the man's question with sad finality.

"He once looked out for me too," Barton confessed. "That's a whole 'nother story, though."

* * *

It was chaos when they arrived at the Room of Requirement. Thor supposed his brother would be proud of the sheer disorderliness of everything. So many children were there, and in a few minutes, more arrived behind them. Former students, current students, it was ridiculous.

After a round of quick introductions and getting priorities sorted, Captain America was directing students and Avengers, just as he had during the invasion of New York. "Don't know what happened to Iron Man and Hawkeye, but Bruce, before the battle breaks out, you can help evacuate the students and explain to the professors the Avengers' role in all this. Black widow and I will start strategizing."

"And I, captain?" Thor asked, for once wishing he had a secret codename as well. They sounded like so much fun.

"Oh, uh—"

Thor might not have been the best strategist (he supposed barreling in and shouting battlecries were not part of the plan), and admittedly, he did not have the patience with children that Friend Bruce possessed, but surely, he must be of help somehow!

"He can come with us to Ravenclaw tower," said the blonde girl with the airy voice.

"I can aid with that!" announced Thor, hoping that Friend Rogers would not deny him this.

Their leader glanced to Harry and then shrugged. "If they think it's a good idea, I don't see why not."

With that, the blonde girl whose name he now remembered was Luna led them toward a long hallway. Around corridors and past staircases they went. The children were hidden under Harry's cloak of magic, but Thor was much too big to fit under it. He followed the pattering of feet until they came to a flight of stairs that led nowhere.

"Bother," said the girl.

"What's wrong, Luna?" whispered Harry.

"The tower is on the fifth floor up, and the stairs won't lead us there now."

Finally, something that Thor could do. "Hold on to me, children." He unlatched Mjolnir from his side and swung it up. He was careful not to put too much force into it, as he was only flying up a few flights. He launched them up, up past moving staircases and magical paraphernalia, and finally to a door with a beautiful bronze knocker.

A woman's musical voice floated to their ears. "Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?"

Thor frowned. "We have little time for riddles. Lady Luna, do you have the power to answer this?" She struck him as an intelligent one. She spoke of strange things with a confident resolve even when many people doubted her sanity. It reminded him of Jane with her science.

"If we're short on time," from underneath the cloak, he heard her say, "then I think the answer is that a circle has no beginning."

"Well reasoned," complimented the voice as the door swung open. The room was a grand one, and Thor was happy to see the furnishings in Midgard. He had seen very little such extravagance elsewhere in this realm.

Harry approached a statue at the other end of the room and slipped out of the cloak. Peering up at a tiara sitting on the stone woman's head, he read, "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure..."

"Which makes you pretty skint, witless," said a hideous woman as she stepped out from the shadows. How Thor had missed her, he did not know. She pressed a forefinger to a tattoo inked on her arm and cackled. Thor allowed her to do nothing else, immediately summoning lightning to incapacitate her.

With a shriek, she fell back, twitching from the electricity. Suddenly, they could hear the pounding of hundreds of little feet.

"Under the cloak, Harry!" Thor told him. He himself would bear the odd looks of the children, for he could not fit underneath it. The pounding grew louder as students poured into the room, first looking at Thor, and then at the motionless body.

"Is she dead?" one gleefully asked.

A rap on the door interrupted all activity. It was followed by that same musical voice asking, "Where do vanished objects go?"

"I dunno, do I? Shut it— Hey, who're you?" asked a frustrated voice. He did not seem friendly.

In response was a low voice they could not decipher. They heard a thump, followed by the low voice again. Through the door, they heard the bronze knocker ask, "Why do you wish to enter?"

"Is this a mere question or a riddle?" Asked the voice. Thor recognized it. He paled.

"It is what it is," the knocker answered.

"We wish to see if Mr. Potter is within," answered a different voice. Thor heard the two under the cloak gasp, along with many of the students. Some of them started backing away up the stairs. It seemed they recognized this other voice.

"Too short-sighted," answered the brazen eagle.

The second voice grew angry. "Listen, I am the Headmaster—"

"We pursue that which all beings pursue: the good."

"What a lovely answer," Luna whispered from under the cloak. It seemed she appreciated his brother's way with words. Once a wordsmith, always a wordsmith.

"Acceptable," said the light voice, just as the other man incredulously asked, "the good? From whom did you hear that tripe?"

"The ancient Greeks, Severus. Do keep up," Loki drawled as the door swung open. Thor thought it was probably due to random happenstance that Harry's red spell zoomed past Loki and hit the man beside him instead. The man fell over, his head producing a loud cracking sound against the stone.

Thor took a step forward and confronted his younger brother. He did not seem unhealthy, so that relieved him greatly. When he had heard of the maniac wizard, he had feared for his brother's safety despite the betrayal. Truly, Loki probably could not fathom that this madman was one person he could not control.

Instead of approaching Thor, Loki swept toward Harry who was now uncovered from the cloak. "You must take them," he instructed, proffering a vial of silver gas. His gaze was intense as he focused on the boy. What was Loki playing at?

"Brother!" Thor said, taking a step toward the man.

Harry grimly looked down at the vial and its swirling contents but did not take it. "Whose are they?" he asked, his wand still pointing in Loki's direction. Thor sorely wished he understood what was going on.

"Dumbledore said you must have them," Loki said. He grabbed Harry's wand arm before the boy could do anything. Not removing the wand from the boy's grip, he held the vial between Harry's hands and squeezed. "You may ask his portrait if you wish. I come only to deliver this to you. In the meantime…"

He paused and gave the boy an inscrutable look. "I ask that you not hurt Severus."

Harry took a step back, clenching the vial in his left hand. "What...who the hell do you think you are?" he finally shouted. "You think you can just walk into my life, betray me, and then waltz back in? I'm not some toy you can just mess with whenever you want! You're lucky I don't kill you as you stand!"

He raised his wand again and pointed it straight at Loki.

Loki raised his hands as if in surrender. "Now Harry, think. Have I really done anything to harm you?" Thor thought the goblet counted, but obviously Loki saw no misdeed there. Thor was about to intervene when he saw Harry take a step forward.

"You killed Sirius," Harry said, his voice cracking with emotion.

It seems Loki was affected by his words, because his brother merely put his arms down. He was not in a position to attack or defend. This was so unlike him, to be unguarded and blank. In that moment, Thor saw his brother's muscles tense. A sound. Both he and his brother had heard the soft rap-tap-tap of shoes before they saw the woman.

"Oh my, what- what has happened here?" an old woman's voice interrupted the frozen moment. Before anyone could react, Loki was behind her and had a conjured knife to her neck.

"So I did, Potter. So I did. And now, I will take my leave. Good day." With that, Loki dragged his knife across the woman's throat and fled.

* * *

So yeah. We'll see what happens. I'm shooting at the hip now. Now more prepared chapters. And um, yeah this isn't a Thursday. Updates will be sporadic. Although I read all reviews, I can't reply to many of them right now. I haven't mentioned it before now, but some have been a little rude in their reviews, and it really stinks when eagerly I open an email about a review only to see a rude review. Constructive criticism I can take and appreciate. I don't ever want to discourage a review because by reviewing, you tell me how I'm doing with a story and what you all think. I absolutely love your reviews, even if they happen to be short. If you are so inspired, however, to leave a long review, please go ahead! Anyway, I'm done rambling. I just have so much to do! It's that time of the semester, guys.


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